


Celestial Body

by caraluques



Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Coming Out, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Gender Dysphoria, Illustrations, Trans Female Character, gender euphoria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 49,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27671572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caraluques/pseuds/caraluques
Summary: An old, near-forgotten gift that Arisa has long grown out of dredges up uncomfortable memories.Kasumi had barged into her life offering a chance to leave the past behind, and Arisa soon took her hand. But her dormant anxieties writhe anew, and those lonely years are still a part of her like an itchy second skin. Spurred on by a new crush, Arisa seeks to further open up and make peace with the things lost to time.
Relationships: Ichigaya Arisa/Maruyama Aya, Ichigaya Arisa/Maruyama Aya/Toyama Kasumi, Ichigaya Arisa/Toyama Kasumi, Maruyama Aya/Toyama Kasumi
Comments: 38
Kudos: 59





	1. Out with the Old

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing a story about Bandori, and it's also the longest story I've ever written, so that's fun!
> 
> I hope that I've done these characters justice and not written anyone too out of character. Certain aspects of Arisa's character interested me in the ways that I could interpret and develop them as aspects of being a trans girl. I hope these ideas have led to an enjoyable story.
> 
> CW: Depictions of dysphoria and some internalised transphobia throughout, and mentions of transphobic bullying in Chapter 6.

If there existed a limit to her grandma’s kindness, then Arisa had yet to find it. Some time ago, the pair of them had packed Arisa’s old clothes into boxes and moved them into the basement when she could no longer stomach the sight of them. She hadn’t even needed to voice her unease; Grandma had suggested it, ever attuned to her granddaughter’s feelings. But the basement was already filled with boxes stacked high, so a few of them couldn’t fit. Her grandma ended up keeping those in her own room – she didn’t need so much space anyway, she’d said.

Selling those clothes had been out of the question, especially after Kasumi had shown up. Arisa knew that if her old clothes, those bland shirts and shorts and formal shoes, were put up for sale in Ryuuseidou, Kasumi’s big mouth would start asking questions. Probably not with any malice, but it’d be awkward, nonetheless. ‘I didn’t know your taste had changed so much!’, ‘Were you going through a phase?’

So, they were taken to a charity shop under cover of… evening. Early enough that it’d still be open, late enough that the dark might allow for some stealth. She’d gone digging around in the basement’s other boxes but found neither camouflage nor a mask, so she did her best with what she had.

Only the boxes in the basement had been taken. Grandma’s back wouldn’t handle any more strain and Arisa would freely admit to being too lazy for several trips. Though she’d grown to dislike those old clothes, there had still been a lot of them – her late parents had been generous, if misguided. Still, at least they were out of sight and out of mind. Arisa could open her wardrobe and not have to cringe, nor have to worry about Kasumi and her lack of boundaries flinging it open and finding things better left forgotten.

That was then, over a year ago. Now, there was a knocking at her door. Unmistakably her grandma’s, sounding too normal to be Kasumi’s musical knock. “Come in,” she said, looking up from her laptop as her grandma stepped into the room, hands behind her back.

“Arisa, I’ve got a present for you,” Grandma smiled.

Arisa closed her laptop and swung her legs out of bed. “You bought me something?” she asked. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Grandma kept her hands hidden. “Oh no, it’s just something I found.”

 _Found…?_ Arisa blinked. _Ah. Oh god_.

“It’s not Kasumi, is it?” Arisa asked, hunching her shoulders. Please, not now. She was still in her pyjamas, it was a lazy day, and she hadn’t yet tied her hair up. While Kasumi loved to see her with her hair down, Arisa wouldn’t give her the luxury or she’d never pry her off, and then she’d have to admit that the clinginess was nice.

Chuckling, her grandma said, “Do you not like seeing your girlfriend?” The dreaded ‘G’ word made Arisa flush, but her grandma continued before she could splutter. “No, it’s not her. Do you remember this?”

As lazy a day as it may have been, she’d still bothered to open her curtains. Sunlight bounced off the thing in her grandma’s hands as she presented it, making its surface shine. Even without the light, it would have glowed in Arisa’s eyes.

Where on earth had _that_ been? That fabric had been a part of her, it had been home, for a time. It was noticeably smaller than she remembered but she’d been small herself, back then. It was also gaudy. Tacky. The memories came trickling back. Once she’d grown too big for it, Arisa had treated it as more of a keepsake. If it wasn’t being worn, it didn’t have to look presentable, it could simply be.

“You… where did you find that? Of course, I remember it,” Arisa replied. She made it sound obvious but really, she hadn’t thought of the thing in ages, despite the importance suggested by its plasticky pattern.

Her grandma shuffled forward and handed it over. “It was in a box in my room,” she explained. “It must have gotten mixed up with the other things, but I guessed you might not want me to get rid of it.”

“You guessed right,” Arisa murmured. “Are you getting rid of the rest?”

“I think it’s about time,” Grandma nodded. “I’ll need some room for the new sewing machine, you girls and your costumes made me think of making something myself.”

Arisa gave her a small smile. “That’s kind of cute,” she muttered, then shook her head. “W-well, thanks. I’ll take them over in a sec.”

The present was hung in Arisa’s wardrobe and she started tying up her hair. Her stomach’s sudden growl gave her pause and her grandma, halfway through the door, said, “You’ll need some lunch before you go lifting things.”

A hard-boiled egg – actually two, at her grandma’s urging – and a short trip later, and Arisa felt like a ghost had vacated the house. With those boxes kept out of her sight, she hadn’t been made to think of them, but it still felt good to get them gone. Unless she was mistaken, that was everything. Every piece of who she used to be had been summarily disposed of, leaving only what she’d become.

And what had she become? A girlfriend, for one thing, now that had been a shocker. It was a fairly recent development, at least in title, though according to her friends, she and Kasumi had looked like a couple for a while before. Arisa didn’t know of many couples where one dramatically repelled the other, and she still wondered if that dynamic was healthy. The others reassured her. Kasumi was a big girl, she knew Arisa didn’t mean it, and those snide quips had grown more and more feeble anyway. Not to mention that Kasumi clearly enjoyed her girlfriend’s mannerisms. Arisa still held plenty of residual embarrassment, both about accepting affection and learning that her friends had long since seen through her silliness, but it was slowly draining away as she continued to open up.

(Can’t open up too much, though.)

She was a student now, for another thing, one that actually went to school. With Kasumi acting almost as a shield, drawing attention away from Arisa and toward herself with her… personality, she did wonders in helping Arisa feel safer. Her new classmates seemed more pleasant in general, Arisa almost felt comfortable with them.

(But don’t let that come back to bite you.)

Things hadn’t changed as much as she’d have liked, at least not yet, but even then, this was more than she could have expected. Perhaps in the next few years, more progress would be made. Maybe she’d even open up to Kasumi about all of this. Unlikely, but then her current situation had seemed unlikely back then, so only time would tell.

Another knock sounded at around dinnertime, the noise joining the patter of rain. This time, the visitor’s knuckles played the opening of _Initial_. When Arisa opened the door, she found Kasumi crouched down, having rapped Arisa’s glissando from the top of the door to the bottom. Though her buns had stayed intact, her hair was fluffed up, suggesting Grandma had dried her off with a towel. She looked up at Arisa with playful eyes and a growing grin.

“Do stand up, it’s undignified,” Arisa sighed with a hand over her mouth.

Kasumi shot up and bounced on her toes. “You told me to do it!”

Arisa tapped Kasumi’s nose and said, “Yeah, because it’s funny.” Behind her other hand was a grin of her own. Turning around, she settled back on the bed and put the laptop away. Kasumi padded over in star-speckled socks and threw herself down where the laptop had been. Making a mess of Arisa’s bedsheet, she wriggled around until she was laying on her stomach and held up her hands.

“The knocking made my hands sore,” Kasumi whined, still smiling inexplicably. “Can you kiss them better?”

They were the palest possible pink, the big baby. Arisa had to squint to notice. Though some pink crept into her own cheeks, she declined. “Dream on.”

Kasumi pouted and rolled around some more, ever full of energy, nearly falling off the bed. Arisa was content to just watch and be ready to grab her arm should she stray too close to the edge. Or she could let her tumble. It’d be funny. But a good excuse to initiate some contact was always welcome, as long as she didn’t make herself obvious. She naturally blamed Kasumi whenever those thoughts arose. The word ‘kiss’ was still reverberating around her head, so her attention wasn’t all there.

Once Kasumi had come to a stop, she began talking about her sister. Apparently Asuka was in charge of dinner and wanted to make natto. Surely she knew of Kasumi’s distaste, so Arisa had to wonder if it was revenge for one of her misdeeds. The younger had stood her ground when the elder complained, so Kasumi fled to Arisa for her grandma’s comfort food.

“You could have just made something yourself, you know,” Arisa chided. “Or reheated the leftovers from last time.” Her grandma fed Kasumi about as often as her own family did at this point. Every time she visited, she’d leave with a stomach full of rice and, on the odd occasion she didn’t clean her plate, a tub full of leftovers. Arisa supposed she couldn’t complain too much – though she didn’t visit Kasumi as often, the Toyama household always fed her when she did.

“I could,” Kasumi admitted, “but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to be with you!”

They were both full of excuses, it seemed.

Arisa waved her hands, fanning away the flames in her cheeks. “Since when did you n-need an excuse?” she asked. Kasumi only laughed and shuffled closer, her head lolling over ominously. In a few seconds she’d plant her head in Arisa’s lap, and Arisa wasn’t sure she could handle it. That coldly comfortable voice in her head told her to move away, do something to keep the distance. The more you let her love you now, the worse the eventual fall. But she sat still as a rock and let Kasumi come in close, obstinately looking away as if that would help her heartbeat.

They’d forgotten to close the door, so when Arisa glanced up, she saw her grandma peaking her head in. She startled, budging away from Kasumi who hummed in confusion and looked up too. “Girls, dinner will be cold soon,” Grandma said, with a small, knowing smile.

Kasumi leapt up. “Oh, right!” she exclaimed, and grabbed Arisa’s arm. “Grandma sent me to get you for dinner. Come on, come on!”

Letting herself get dragged downstairs, Arisa grumbled, “You’re a goldfish, you know,” and heard her grandma chuckling behind her. It wasn’t exactly a cuddle, but the hand on her arm brightened her up. Arisa mentally placed a finger over the harsh voice’s lips.

Dinner was always louder with Kasumi at the table. Quieter than it used to be, though, as Arisa’s embarrassed outbursts had grown a little less frequent. Regardless, it was still amazing how much noise Kasumi could make with a mouth full of rice and curry. The three of them chatted together, unlike when Kasumi had first barged into her life. For those first few weeks, Arisa only acknowledged Kasumi during dinner, as though pretending that her grandma wasn’t also at the table would make Kasumi’s teasing less embarrassing. She’d long since realised that doing so was a bit mean, and that her grandma was already fond of the girl who kept eating all her food, so now, they ate like a family.

It was almost scary, how normal that had become. Family really was the operative word, Arisa’s grandma treated Kasumi like one of her own and Arisa herself now found the table feeling empty when Kasumi wasn’t seated at it. Less empty than the cupboards, mind you – her girlfriend was a bottomless pit.

“Do let your sister know that she’s welcome here, as well,” Grandma told Kasumi once Asuka was brought up.

Swallowing a spoonful of curry, Kasumi replied, “I did! She said something like, “You shouldn’t be inviting people to someone else’s home,” and, “You already eat enough of their food, I’m not clearing them out.” I’ll convince her, though!”

Arisa silently thanked Asuka for possessing the self-restraint her sister never showed. With how visibly awkward the girl could get when her sister was smothering Arisa, she might be better off at home, anyway. Grandma only encouraged Kasumi’s antics, the awkwardness in the room would be palpable.

“What’s her favourite food? I could make it if she visits,” Grandma said.

Kasumi launched into a barrage of trivia about her sister, from her favourite food, to colour, to animal, and Arisa imagined Asuka in her own kitchen, sneezing as she was gossiped about. That was if the younger girl was anything like her, anyway. Arisa herself had certainly developed a sixth sense by now, knowing instinctively when Kasumi was talking about her and hoping she wasn’t sharing anything too embarrassing.

“Didn’t she? Arisa?”

Arisa blinked and looked up from her rice. “What?”

“Aa-chan! She called you her sister that one time and got all embarrassed,” Kasumi said.

Asuka hadn’t been the only one, the memory made Arisa rosy-cheeked even now. She wasn’t her sister, she and Kasumi weren’t even… they weren’t like _that_.

She told Kasumi as much. “She just said that because she was tired, just a mistake,” Arisa said, as calmly as she could. “You did wake her up early.”

“Hmm,” Kasumi pondered with a finger on her chin, next to a few grains of rice that had missed her mouth. “No,” she decided, “I bet she loves you nearly as much as I do, she’s just bad at showing it!”

Arisa forgot to chew and swallowed her food thickly. Next to ‘girlfriend’, the ‘L’ word was another villain. Kasumi threw it out so freely and so often that Arisa should have been used to it by now, braced for its appearance, but it still threw her off every time. She needed a solid hour to psych herself up before she could hope to say it. “Y-you—Hush up and eat,” she replied weakly. What met her was a bright smile and a clean plate displayed with pride.

After carrying those boxes and enduring the excitement of dinner, Arisa was about ready for bed. The meal had sobered Kasumi to an extent, but it was only after a warm cup of tea, at Arisa’s suggestion, that she calmed down enough herself. She called her mother to say that she’d be sleeping over with Arisa, and her mother told her that she’d assumed as much.

These sleepovers had grown so common that Arisa rarely put Kasumi’s sleeping bag away. It sat beside her bed and Arisa would often find herself, to her own chagrin, looking yearningly at it when she woke up and Kasumi wasn’t there. There was no way they could share a bed just yet – it would be a good long while before a Kasumi-shaped indent would be etched into her mattress. The way things were now, with Arisa's insecurities only subdued, never absent, she wasn’t sure if it would ever happen. But again, she’d never expected this much, either.

Kasumi rocked back and forth on her heels outside the bedroom door while Arisa got changed. After seeing the thing in her wardrobe again, Arisa opted for her fluffy, star-patterned pyjamas, the ones Kasumi had excitedly given to her last month. Deep purple and speckled with lavender stars, they made her look wrapped up in a starry sky. She didn’t bother trying to convince herself that she wasn’t wearing them for Kasumi’s approval, she was far too tired to lie to herself.

“I’m done. Don’t take too long,” Arisa told a starry-eyed Kasumi, stepping out of the room. “And don’t look in my wardrobe,” she added, suddenly a bit anxious.

Tearing her eyes off her girlfriend, Kasumi walked in and replied, “I would never! Did you get new clothes, or something?”

“No,” Arisa said honestly. It was far from new. “And you know you would.”

“I might…”

“Well, don’t!”

“Roger!”

Arisa paced in the hallway. She wasn’t sure why the thought of Kasumi seeing that old thing suddenly made her anxious. It could easily be explained away, and she was no stranger to fibbing. Perhaps the time they’d spent together had chipped away at her resolve a little more than she’d thought. The idea of being handed on a platter the opportunity to be open, and rejecting it with an easy lie, made her feel sour where once she would have jumped at the chance.

Stereotypes were something she understood all too well. After all, that cute and gaudy gift had made her younger self so happy because it was the kind of thing she’d grown up seeing other girls wear, and after being denied it for so long, she'd longed to fit in. It was only later that her taste was changed and she switched to more mature outfits. Arisa was no stranger to another stereotype, that of boys being emotionally repressed. It was something she’d struggled with during that self-enforced solitude. The solitude itself was due to fear of judgement, but being so closed-off only made her more uncomfortable. She could never thank Kasumi enough for dragging her out of that. As she opened up and laid her feelings bare more often than she shut people out, Arisa had begun to experience a new kind of euphoria. Though, one that still had to wrestle with her embarrassment.

But there were some things better left unsaid, at least for now. One step at a time. So, it was with butterflies in her stomach that she waited for Kasumi to open the door. She’d have to remember to move that thing elsewhere, somewhere nobody would look, but then she’d lose that chance to open up and would have to create one herself. She didn’t do well when put on the spot, but it would at least get things over with. Maybe it would be best to get it done soon – not now, but soon.

The door swung open to reveal Kasumi in matching nightwear.

“Ta-da!” Kasumi sang. “Now we match! I knew you’d wear those.”

Arisa’s lips curved and she raised an affectionate eyebrow. “Did you now?” she asked dryly, all anxieties abandoned. This was Kasumi she was talking about. Even if she did go against her word and find Arisa’s secret, she’d be far more interested in her own sweet and silly plans.

“Yep, I checked the weather forecast. It’s cold, so you’d wear those, so now we get to match!” Kasumi proudly explained.

“A flawless plan, as usual,” Arisa snarked. She hadn’t really noticed the chill since dinnertime, being stuck in an endless warm blush.

Winter was perhaps the best time for Kasumi to sleep over. Besides the easy excuse for a cuddle, it meant Arisa could keep her curtains open overnight since the sky wouldn’t brighten too early, and Kasumi could watch the stars until she eventually drifted off.

Surprisingly though, it was Kasumi who fell asleep first. All tuckered out after pulling off such a brilliant scheme, no doubt. Arisa watched her peaceful expression as her chest slowly rose and fell. A calm and quiet Kasumi was as rare a sight as Arisa with her hair down, except that Arisa got to see this treat while Kasumi was left wanting. It might have been a bit unfair.

Spread out across her sleeping bag, with an arm and a leg hanging out, Kasumi still had an air of chaos even now. Her left hand was so close to Arisa’s bed, she could easily reach out and… should she? An idea formed and lit up Arisa’s face. Slowly, silently, she pressed a kiss to her fingertips and reached down, brushing them against Kasumi’s knuckles.

“There,” she whispered.

Kasumi’s hand closed like a fly trap to hold her girlfriend's own.

“Wh—” Arisa startled. Kasumi just smiled, eyes still closed. “Y-you’re awake?” Arisa quietly hissed.

“No, I’m asleep, don’t worry,” Kasumi murmured happily.

Arisa’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t take her hand back. She’d regret it in the morning when it was all warm and clammy. For now, though, she let herself have this. Eventually, once her heart stopped hammering, she drifted away herself. Their hands stayed together until the sun came up, making it by far the longest kiss they’d shared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pair's relationship with Aya will be introduced in Chapter 2, and this first chapter can be treated more as a prologue. All 8 chapters are written and I'm hoping to post a new chapter every few days or so.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated!


	2. Butterfinger Heart

Nowadays, Arisa spent much less time glued to a screen, but still used her laptop more than most. Being the most computer-savvy of the bunch and not trusting Kasumi not to post something strange, she had appointed herself as Poppin’Party’s head of PR. She managed their social media account, posting information about events as well as carefully curated photos from their time spent together. The others had access too, but anything important had to go through her first. Kasumi’s access had nearly been revoked when she posted a string of embarrassing photos, which were deleted in minutes thanks to Arisa’s hyper-vigilance.

Managing the account had led to Arisa spending more time on social media. While her own band obviously had most of her attention, it was interesting, and sometimes bizarre, to see what the others got up to. Hello, Happy World!’s account was clearly run by those nameless suits. The three stooges would find a way to tank their band if given the reins, poor Kanon would worry herself silly, and she couldn’t see Misaki agreeing to the extra work. Roselia and Afterglow’s accounts looked to be group efforts, but Pastel✽Palettes had its leader’s name all over it.

Quite literally. It wasn’t at all hard to see who was running it, when they so often shared selfies posted to Aya’s personal account. Had to reach as wide an audience as she could, it seemed.

As time went by, Arisa had found herself slowly becoming part of that audience, too. She checked in on the other bands fairly often, but something about Aya’s carefully perfected smile drew her in more than she’d like to admit. Between selfies taken with aching care, Aya posted plenty of updates on her journey to become an idol worthy of adoration. She was already there, as far as Arisa could tell.

While some of her posts could be unintentionally funny (and Hina let her know in the replies), it was her endless drive to improve that, coupled with her smile, kept Arisa’s attention. The hard-working vocalist reminded Arisa of her own, though she seemed a bit more restrained than Kasumi. There was a reason Aya’s band had let her handle their social media while Arisa handled hers. It was no surprise that she radiated joy for all to see, as was her job as an idol, but where Kasumi’s joy seemed so simple and innocent, Aya’s smile looked hard-earned. Perhaps that was why it allured Arisa; it represented the fruits of hard work and the trials therein.

Or it could simply be her cuteness. Rimi was the closest comparison that Arisa could make but again, while Rimi’s cuteness was sheer innocent luck, Aya’s had effort behind it. No doubt she’d look cute without trying, but the fact that she tried so hard was endearing. She reminded Arisa somewhat of her younger self, the one whose heart had soared when wearing the thing in the wardrobe.

It had taken some time for Arisa to accept her feelings, but in the interest of being more honest with herself (and taking a page from Aya’s book), she put the effort in. Even if it wasn’t a full-fledged crush, something was there that she’d only felt once before. It was a similar feeling to that of hearing Kasumi call her name with the brightest smile, back when they’d both been too nervous to confess. Maybe it was dampened slightly by the distance – she and Aya weren’t interacting so it felt less personal – but then that layer of separation only made things easier, in a way. From behind a screen, Arisa didn’t have to worry about her appearance, her voice, her mannerisms, she could just… yearn, as embarrassing as it was.

Back when Arisa and Kasumi had officially started dating, they’d had an awkward conversation about whether to be exclusive. Initially, the thought of not having Kasumi to herself had been troubling. It had taken so long just to get to this point, she wasn’t going to let someone else have her girlfriend. As they talked, however, the idea had grown more agreeable, bolstered by their growing trust. They hadn’t yet been interested in anybody else and even if they had, they would have wanted some time for just the two of them, but it was agreed on as an open possibility.

Kasumi was popular with plenty of girls – friend to everyone, more to Arisa – while Arisa herself had been forging more bonds ever since joining the band. The other members of Poppin’Party were attractive, if Arisa would allow herself the indulgence of noticing, but she and Kasumi agreed that they were friends first. Saaya, Rimi and Tae were precious to both of them, but didn’t cause the same spark that they felt from each other.

So it was a small shock when that spark ran through Arisa upon seeing Aya’s latest post. _‘Taking a quick break!_ _♡_ _’_ read the caption, above a carefully-crafted selfie. Swaddled in a sweater, Aya sat in a plush café chair, holding a mug of what may have been hot chocolate but was hard to really distinguish, drowning as it was in a sea of cream. The sleeves of her sweater covered her hands like makeshift oven gloves; the drink was visibly steaming, and though it had fogged her round glasses, bright pink eyes shone through.

Arisa and Kasumi had been out to eat a number of times, partially just to get Kasumi to eat something other than Grandma’s cooking. Hazawa Coffee had been the obvious choice, once Arisa was comfortable letting people she knew see her on a date. They were enjoyable times, ones she always looked forward to, but getting coffee with her girlfriend had scarcely made her feel the way she did now. Arisa supposed it was the spark of something new. The warm and fuzzy feeling that Kasumi brought felt like home. She had grown somewhat used to it, it was a familiar comfort. Lovely on its own, but not as electrifying as the stirring of new feelings. Bathed in the café’s warm lighting – quite possibly amplified by a filter – the picture was the image of comfort, and Arisa felt herself being pulled in.

The heart beneath the photo flashed red and Arisa’s eyes widened.

She hadn’t even felt her finger move. She’d just—the spark, the palpitations, she’d jolted and tapped the mouse without meaning to.

“ _Shit_. Shit-shit-shit-shit,” she hissed under her breath. Immediately, Arisa clicked the heart again and the red faded away, but she knew that the damage was done. Aya replied to comments on her posts with almost frightening speed, she must have her phone out constantly. Even after the like was removed, she’d still get a notification. _‘Poppin’Party liked one of your tweets’_. Busted.

Arisa quickly opened the band’s account page. Nowhere in the description did it say it was run by her, thank god, but she wasn’t safe yet.

49 seconds ago, read a tag beneath the photo. She could only imagine how it must look to like a photo from someone you hardly talk to so quickly after it was posted. She didn’t even have the excuse of having liked it from Pastel✽Palettes’ page. It was just on Aya’s account, the one with a fraction of her band’s followers. With Arisa’s like removed, the photo only had one, for now. Apparently it was from Aya herself, which was adorable in the kind of way that seeing a small cat fall over made you coo sympathy, and that hardly helped quash Arisa’s growing affection.

Would Aya message her to ask about it? If so, would she be thankful, confused, unnerved? Arisa supposed she could just pretend to be Kasumi or something, but that would be a little untoward. More likes cropped up as the minutes passed and Arisa hoped that they’d bury her mis-click. She refreshed the app several times: no messages yet.

The notifications bell lit up right as her phone vibrated and Arisa jumped, whipping her head between the laptop and the phone. Not… the notification she’d expected, but she gingerly clicked on the bell.

 _‘Sparkling_ _♡Aya liked one of your tweets._ _’_

Arisa’s eyebrows raised. She clicked the notification and was taken to a photo of herself and Kasumi sharing ice cream despite the cold weather. They’d each coloured the other’s nose with a drop of their own ice cream. The photo had a few more likes than their other recent posts; it seemed that fans appreciated the couple’s… dynamic. At the head of the list was Aya’s avatar: a selfie of her own, sporting that flawless smile.

Was this… how flirting worked?

No, no. It was just the last thing she’d posted, Arisa assured herself.

(She’d best post something related to an event soon, she thought. Besides the pinned tweet, that photo was at the top of the page, which brought its own feeling of embarrassment.)

Aya was simply paying her, or Popipa as a whole, back by liking a post of their own. Common online courtesy, the kind that Aya would know all about. At least that suggested that she wasn’t creeped out. Of course not, Arisa told herself, Aya loved getting attention online, provided it was positive.

That settled that. There was no way to know that Arisa ran the account. Kasumi would be a more realistic candidate given her role as leader, the same way Aya ran Pastel✽Palettes’. Granted, Yukina and Ran seemed to rarely post and the suits handled the circus band, but she didn’t need to think about that. What’s more, Aya had politely returned the favour. Panic over. She’d just have to be more careful in future.

Arisa returned to Aya’s page with a careful click, then clamped a hand over her mouth and quietly screeched.

Another photo, just five seconds ago. Sitting next to Aya and holding the phone while Aya flashed double peace signs, Kasumi had a drink of her own. She grinned at the camera and Arisa was sure there was something teasing in that smile. Kasumi’s eyes seemed to bore into her own and bear the message, “Caught ya!”

What on earth was she doing there? That pest, did she do these things on purpose or out of sheer, gormless ignorance? Now Aya would know that Kasumi wasn’t the culprit. Would the other three seem like candidates? Arisa went back to Popipa’s page and checked the photo of herself and Kasumi. No, that was a selfie, so it had to be one of the two. What if Kasumi told Aya as much? She was hardly one for subtlety.

Any self-reassurance went out of the window. There was nothing else for it. Arisa scrambled for her phone and tapped on Kasumi’s name. She willed her breathing to slow as she waited for Kasumi to pick up.

“Aris—”

“What are you doing?” Arisa demanded. She was far too loud in the quiet house but that didn’t matter in the moment. “You—Aya—”

“Oh, yeah!” Kasumi chirped. “I ran into Aya-senpai and we decided to get coffee to warm up. We actually ended up with hot chocolate but it’s the thought that—”

“Nevermind that! Um, I mean…” Arisa lowered her voice. “…Sorry for interrupting. But you—did she—have either of you mentioned me?”

“Of course!” Arisa froze. “I always like talking about you,” Kasumi said sweetly. Arisa thawed, barely, still feeling frigid. She wasn’t out of the woods yet.

“A-and Aya-senpai?”

The voice on the other end turned quiet for a moment like Kasumi was turning to check something. “She mentioned you earlier," she said vaguely. Then a smile crept into her voice. "Right now though, she’s taking a pic of her drink. And now she’s embarrassed ‘cause I caught her.”

Arisa set aside the knowledge that Aya had spoken of her, as she felt her blood run cold. She carefully kept her voice down. It took a tremendous effort. “You’re still sitting with her?” she asked incredulously. “Why didn’t you excuse yourself to take the call?”

“I already excused myself to go to the bathroom like five minutes ago, I don’t wanna keep leaving her…” Kasumi said. “Plus, my drink would get cold.”

“Your drink…” Arisa repeated, running a hand down her face. “Right. I need you to be quiet, and don’t say anything that might give me away, okay?”

“…Sure?”

“Okay. So, I liked Aya-senpai’s photo. By accident!” she insisted.

“Yeah, I saw!” Kasumi said, still at her usual volume. “You didn’t like the one with me in it, though…” The pout was audible.

“That’s not important!” Arisa said. Her girlfriend had seemingly already forgotten what she’d been told, so she was fighting a losing battle. Still, she persisted. “Okay, I need you to tell her that you liked it. Like, when you were in the bathroom or something. Please?”

“I wouldn’t use my phone in the bathroom though, that’s gross,” Kasumi replied. “And I already said it was you.”

“You—!"

“It was great!” she happily continued. “You should have seen it, she got all blushy-flushy.”

Arisa’s eyebrows shot up. “She what?”

“She got all kira-ki—”

“I know what you meant! Why did she do that?”

There was a pause as Kasumi shrugged. “Maybe she likes you?”

Aya’s faint squeak could be heard on the other side. Coupled with Kasumi’s words, it sent Arisa’s heart into a flutter.

“Y-you little… Why would you tell her?”

“She asked!”

Patience wearing thin, Arisa took a calming breath. It didn’t really work. She put the phone on her bed while mumbling under her breath, “If she got… blushy, that’s not the worst sign. But this is Aya-senpai, so she’d get like that no matter who it was…”

“Are you still there? Arisa?” came Kasumi’s muffled voice. “Do you wanna talk to Aya-senpai? I’ll hand you over to her.”

The phone was back in her hand in an instant. “No! Nonononono!” she exclaimed, louder than intended. Her grandma must have been getting worried.

“Are you sure?” Kasumi asked. “Aw, she looks disappointed. Yes, you do!” She was blatantly enjoying herself.

There was no way Arisa could talk to Aya in the state she was in. She could hardly even talk to Kasumi without tripping over her words, and she’d thought herself inoculated to her girlfriend’s ways. The thought of making Aya blush had Arisa following suit; she hardly ever got to make Kasumi flustered. That girl was too bold for any flirting, rare as it was from Arisa, to have much effect. She just accepted it with the same unmoveable smile and returned it tenfold.

“Oh!” Kasumi piped up. “You could come join us! The café isn’t far away, I can text you the address.”

“N-no!” Arisa stammered, hearing it echoed on the other side.

“S-sorry, Kasumi-chan,” came Aya’s small voice. “I’ve got practice after this…”

It was a good thing that Aya had a good reason ready to fire off, Arisa wouldn’t have thought of one herself. Kasumi whined and Arisa bit her tongue to avoid telling her off. She of all people should understand the importance of practice, and of saving Arisa’s skin.

The whining must have worked, however, as Aya continued, eager not to disappoint. “B-but maybe! Um, next weekend… Hold on, can Arisa-chan hear me?”

She could, quite clearly (how close were those two sitting? A tinge of jealousy arose, unbidden.)

“Oh, hang on,” Kasumi said, before Arisa could speak. A moment later, her phone screen flashed and showed a hazy image. It focused into a view of the café, dominated by Kasumi’s grinning face. Aya could be seen beside her, cup in hand and eyes as wide as her crumb-spotted plate.

“Arisa!”

“I’m not turning mine on,” Arisa said. Her own face mirrored Aya’s as she stared at her crush, and she was thankful she couldn’t be seen. “S-she said hear, not see—”

“Shh-shh-shh!” Kasumi interrupted. “Aya-senpai?” she prompted, moving the phone closer.

Aya instinctively smiled in the face of the camera, but it was strained with apparent nerves. Her eyes flickered between Kasumi, the camera and the screen, which only showed a static photo of Arisa from Kasumi’s contacts list. “Um, Arisa-chan, a-and Kasumi chan, do you… um,” Aya trailed off, glancing away nervously. She downed the last dregs of her hot chocolate, then looked back to the phone with a determined face and a chocolate moustache. “Do you wanna go out for coffee next weekend?”

Off to the side, Kasumi wore a delighted smile. Arisa’s heart hammered; her own gaze was torn between her girlfriend’s jubilance and her new crush’s determination. This was a face Arisa had seldom seen, Aya did a good job to show only her brightest smile online and on stage, aiming to make her cheer look effortless. She would describe her hard work in the captions of her photos, but her smile, itself intensely practiced, always looked carefree by design. The fire in her eyes warmed Arisa’s face to its boiling point and she stuttered out her answer.

“Y-you mean hot chocolate?”

Kasumi laughed, Aya flushed. “I mean coffee’s fine too!” Arisa hastened to add. Not that she’d need the caffeine in a situation like that, she’d be jittery enough already.

“Whatever you l-like,” Aya squeaked. “And um, they do really good cakes too!” she continued, dragging herself back to dignity, never giving up. The moustache didn’t help, not that she knew. “Kasumi-chan, what did you get again?”

Kasumi angled her phone down at her plate, which miraculously wasn’t empty yet. Too busy running her mouth about her girlfriend’s slip-up, Arisa thought tiredly. Kasumi speared a soft piece of pastry and held it up to the camera.

“Rhubarb and custard tart! The colours made me think of you two,” Kasumi winked, popping it in her mouth.

Arisa sighed with a smile. “If only you put so much thought into important things,” she said. Her affection for the girl and her odd priorities helped Arisa to relax. “Aya-senpai, what about you?”

Distracted by Kasumi’s explanation, Aya paused for a moment before snapping to attention. “Oh! Um, it’s—” the plate was empty, she realised. Aya set it back down with a clack. “Uh, I just got a fudge cake. It was a bit too much with the hot chocolate, don’t tell Chisato-chan…” Her nervous chuckle was echoed by Arisa – she wasn’t immune to the older star’s intimidation.

The three fell quiet as Kasumi wolfed down her remaining tart. She kept her phone held up like she wanted to show off her dessert, though Arisa was one for milder flavours, herself. In the background, Aya took out a pocket mirror to clean her face. She shifted in her seat, wearing slight disappointment, and was about to head off to practice when Arisa suddenly spoke up. “Ah, wait, I didn’t actually… yeah, I’m free next weekend,” her voice crackled through Kasumi’s phone, only several minutes late. “Y’know, if you wanna… hang out. Kasumi is too, she’ll just come eat my food otherwise.”

Aya’s face brightened even more so than Kasumi’s, the two of them like competing stars. Caught up in their glow, Arisa had half a mind to turn down her phone’s brightness. She’d been lazy enough not to part the curtains today and her screen lit up the room.

“Th-that’s great!” Aya beamed. Her smile fell as her phone bleeped an alarm, then returned smaller and shyer. “Ah, I’m sorry, I’ll message you later to arrange something. I can’t turn up later than Hina-chan,” she said, pride on the line. A spark of that determination flashed on her face and Arisa’s heart jumped, ignorant of the situation’s banality.

“S-sure thing,” Arisa uttered. Staring at her screen, she wondered why Kasumi’s determination, while a fondness of hers, didn’t ignite something within her the way Aya’s did. Perhaps again, she could chalk it up to expectation. In her time spent with Kasumi, she’d seen her approach every venture with the same sort of gusto, from movie dates to long-awaited lives. But Aya’s passion wasn’t so familiar. Arisa had only seen it expressed through social media posts or touted by others, this was her first front row seat. It almost felt like her first time at a live show, getting to finally see that determination she’d heard shone so brightly before a performance or, as the stories said, when facing gale and rain for a band she’d hardly yet come to know.

Kasumi’s voice drew her from her daydreams. “Oh, the others can see the messages on Popipa’s account,” she noted.

Arisa frowned. A rare moment of logical observation. The girl was up to something.

“You should get Arisa’s number instead!”

A weary sigh breathed out of the phone. Arisa had just wanted a calm, do-nothing day and here was her wild-card girlfriend, making her heart race something unhealthy. The culprit innocently tilted her head. “Or you could just text me—”

“No it’s fine, let me just… I’ll read it out…” Arisa interrupted, smothering her embarrassing eagerness with a tired tone of voice. She tapped through her phone to find her own number. It was hardly something she gave out often and she’d learned not to give it to many websites, lest she be inundated with spam, so she didn’t have it memorised. She definitely wasn't delaying, not one bit.

Once Aya had added her number, she left a tip on the table, bid them goodbye and hurried off to practice with a rosy face.

 _I hope we weren’t keeping her_ , Arisa thought. _Should have hung up sooner…_

“Wow, she leaves big tips.”

Arisa startled. She was still on the line. So focused on Aya’s fleeting form, she’d almost forgotten who was holding the phone.

“Fifty percent! She makes us look cheap…” Kasumi continued.

“That’s what happens when you have a job,” Arisa replied. “We’d be screwed without pocket money.”

Turning the phone back around to her face, Kasumi pouted. “We get money from ticket sales too.”

“Yeah, a pittance.” Sounding as though she’d have liked to pinch her girlfriend’s cheek, Arisa said, “And who’s the one too busy with café trips to book us more lives?”

She realised the hypocrisy the moment she spoke, but Kasumi pointed it out anyway. “You agreed to a date too. Miss ‘I liked my crush’s selfie, it’s the end of days’,” she whined in mock despair. The low growl she was met with only made her grin.

“That’s not important,” Arisa insisted. “A-and nobody said it was a date, where are you getting that from?”

“Arisa, look at me.”

She did just that, watching as Kasumi’s bright face drooped into a deadpan expression that felt like staring into a mirror.

“W-what?” Arisa asked.

Kasumi sighed fondly and gave a smug little smile. “She blushed when you liked her picture and asked you out for coffee. It’s a date.”

It sounded like nothing of the sort, as far as Arisa was concerned. Aya had only offered because Kasumi invited Arisa over and she didn’t want to disappoint them. Really, it was a burden more than anything, they were hogging Aya’s limited free time.

“Maybe we should just cancel…”

“What?” Kasumi exclaimed, drawing looks from other patrons. “I thought… do you not like her in that way?”

Arisa bit her lip and drew herself in, making herself small under the duvet. “Keep your voice down… and I don’t know. She seems nice and I don’t mind hanging out, but she wouldn’t see me that way. Even if I did l-like her.”

A moment passed in silence before Kasumi quietly replied. Arisa had to lean in to hear. “Why wouldn’t she like you? You’re wonderful to me.”

More silence. A shiver ran through Arisa and her throat felt dry. Another perfect moment handed to her with minimal effort. She could explain everything now and get it over with, no doubt cancelling the ‘date’ in the process before she can lead the two girls on. But Kasumi deserved better than that. If she were to open up, she should do so in person. A phone call would be in poor taste.

“Well, I think she’d like you if she doesn’t already,” Kasumi continued.

“We’ll see…” A thought came to Arisa. “What about you?” she asked. “Do _you_ like her?”

“Yeah!”

Arisa blinked. _Brazen_. It was always pointless to try and catch Kasumi off guard. “Y-you do, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s why I went with her today,” Kasumi confessed, scratching her cheek. Oh, so the idol could make her bashful, could she? “I was gonna tell you about it later, but you beat me to it. Isn’t she cute?”

“V-very,” Arisa muttered before she could stop herself. “I-I mean, do you wanna date her?”

Kasumi laughed nervously. “I dunno yet. Maybe? You’re my priority, anyway.”

The covers felt suddenly smothering; Arisa kicked them off before she could smoulder. “You’re in p-public, watch it!” Kasumi only laughed louder, hardly helping.

“Whatever, we can figure that out later. The date—the _outing_ might still bomb yet,” Arisa said. “How are we gonna pay for it anyway? How much was your drink?”

“I think 480 yen.”

“That much? What about the food?”

“I’m not sure…” Kasumi replied, looking for a receipt. “Aya-senpai got it for me.”

Arisa slumped down on her mattress and the laptop wobbled on her knees. “We’ll have to pay for hers then, so we’re equal. That’s gonna cost even more.” She set the phone down on her pillow and went back to the laptop. Aya’s photo had tagged the café by name, now Arisa just had to look up the menu. The website’s gilded design didn’t give her purse much hope.

“Hmmm…” Arisa couldn’t see Kasumi’s expression, but presumably she was pulling her best thinking face. The one that made her look like a cat first seeing its own reflection. “Maybe you could sell something?”

The boxes of outgrown clothes immediately came to mind and Arisa almost cursed herself for donating them to charity. A more benevolent part of her assured that it had been the better thing to do.

“How much do you think you’d go for?” she asked dryly instead. Her name was whined through the receiver and Arisa allowed herself a laugh.

“I’ll ask my grandma if I can have next week’s money early. You do the same and we’ll see where that gets us.”

Some more customary back and forth, and then the call was finally ended. Arisa felt like she’d run a marathon. Without even getting up, she’d accomplished more over the phone than she had over weeks of scrolling through social media. And all without her voice betraying her.

With one panic over, a new one should have formed. A snippy little voice pestering her to figure out how she’d get the money for a more costly date. Yet even as she gawked at the prices on the menu, the thought of spending time with her girlfriend and her crush brought a sense of calm. Not complete calm, the kind only found in tending to her bonsai; it was laced with jittery excitement but that may well have been better. Having grown used to being in charge of a pair of eccentrics, or an entire group when Rimi and Saaya joined in, she’d long been acquainted with worry. This stir of her stomach was something wholly different, more comparable to how she’d felt when arranging her first date with Kasumi. Only now she had experience. Arisa had gone through the wringer and emerged a touch more confident, so the butterflies now flapped gently rather than fluttering up a storm.

She almost fell over when she finally got up. Shaking the sleep out of her legs, Arisa padded over to the wardrobe. Aside from band costumes, the old dress, and a handful of anomalies, her clothes were an array of blacks and whites, beiges and browns. Some had been handed down by her mother and her grandma, their frayed fabric older than she was. Much of it would be nice enough for a pricier café. It was Kasumi who’d need to worry.

Yet still, illogically, she felt a shopping trip was in order. The thought of meeting Aya in regular dress was… dissatisfying. She’d considered getting something nicer for her dates with Kasumi but been too embarrassed by the idea until now, high off the thrill of speaking to her crush. But anything ordered online would take too long to arrive.

Surely someone with a girlfriend would understand her plight. Her other bandmates were still single, not that you’d know from seeing the trio together. A name came to mind and Arisa swallowed her nerves, flicked through her phone and dialled a newer contact.

“Lisa-san, are you busy this week?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea that Arisa and Aya both spend a lot of time online was the initial cornerstone of this rarepair, as Arisa is said to spend a lot of time surfing the web and Aya is a little addicted to social media. This will become more relevant later on but for now, Chapter 3 will be a date with no screens between them. It's also a bit of a longer one, which... became a recurring pattern. Most chapters are gonna be a bit longer from here on out!


	3. A Strawberry Fit for Two

She may have taken this too far.

Lisa had seemed the most appropriate pick, given that her wardrobe was trendier and less moth-eaten than much of Arisa’s. The instructions had been clear: it had to be good enough for a nice café, but still understated enough not to draw unwanted attention. While the former had been taken into account, the latter ended up going in one ear and out the other.

It was Arisa’s own fault, really. She knew better than to mention that it was for a maybe-date, but the words just slipped out. Lisa had that effect; like Saaya’s sisterly energy but a lot more persistent, making you talk when your lips were best kept sealed. Clearly she’d gone above and beyond, ricocheting from shop to shop like the mall was a pinball machine. It had eaten into Arisa’s date funds, but her Grandma had been thankfully generous. By the end of the trip, Arisa had a brand-new outfit for her surely-not-a-date, and while it was fun to admire in her bedroom mirror, there was a reason she’d taken an oversized cardigan.

“Aren’t you hot?” was the first thing Kasumi asked. On the doorstep of the Toyama house, Arisa stood wrapped in wool. The tail-end of winter was fast approaching, and the weather had started to warm. Kasumi herself was dressed in jeans and a nice blouse that Arisa had never seen before, implying some help from her more sensible sister.

“No. It’s still winter, you know,” Arisa said. While her dress was hidden by the modest cardigan, the heart-patterned tights had been harder to obscure. Kasumi didn’t seem to mind, looking her girlfriend up and down with an analytical face which didn’t really suit her.

“Well, you look cute!” she finally said. “Did you see any tights with stars on them while you were out?”

Arisa locked her knees together, a little self-conscious. It almost felt inappropriate to be complimented on your looks when you’d focused for so long on not standing out. Letting Kasumi know that she’d bought them especially for the date would only embarrass her further. “I don’t remember. I got them a while ago,” she lied.

“You’re lying.”

Kasumi crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t getting cheated out of any starry clothes.

“Wh—” Arisa choked. “How did you know?”

Smug as a cat in a place it shouldn’t be, Kasumi grinned. “Because you just told me, Arisa.”

Arisa stood frozen, then turned on her heel. Kasumi laughed behind her, locking the door and quickly catching up. She took two quick steps for every one of Arisa’s frustrated strides.

“Who died and made you sly?” Arisa sniped. She let Kasumi take her hand regardless. “I liked you better when your head was full of hot air.”

The walk to the café wasn’t too long and Kasumi knew the way. She swung their hands as they walked, humming and replying, “You’re lying again. You love me.”

Arisa would regret it if she ended up rushing the wrong way, but she'd had heard enough. Pettiness overtaking what remained of her pride, she untangled their hands and stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Kasumi’s cheek. She thanked herself for not bothering with lip gloss.

“Maybe so,” she murmured in Kasumi’s ear.

The embarrassment soon caught up, in longer strides than her own short legs could manage. Arisa clutched the strap of her bag and hurried off down the road. Kasumi stood shock-still before recovering with rare rosy cheeks and giving chase. They only later realised that they’d missed a turn.

* * *

The Gloaming Café was a Shirasagi haunt, according to Aya’s texts. Its prices were high enough that only well-off sorts and idols hoping to impress would dare to frequent it. True to its name, it was largely vacant at midday, and the menu listed several items only available at dusk. A questionable but thematic business decision if Arisa had ever seen one. She supposed that when your customers paid an arm and a leg for coffee, you could afford to take a small hit for the sake of being on-brand.

Unsurprisingly, Chisato and Kanon were seated themselves when Arisa and Kasumi arrived. Lit by the same warm lights as Aya’s troublesome selfie, in a booth beside one of the café’s darkened windows which denied the sunny day and were hard to clearly see through. Arisa realised at once why Chisato was a frequent patron.

The two were almost certainly an item, at least judging from what Aya had let slip, and as with all things, that had been a clever move on Chisato’s part. Go on enough perfectly platonic café outings with your best friend and crush that when things become official, your dates don’t look suspicious. Kasumi’s smothering affection back when the two of them were just friends could’ve been similarly strategic, but she’d clearly not done that on purpose.

“Kanon-senpai! Chisato-senpai!” Kasumi called as they entered, drowning out the calm ambience. Chisato winced minutely at the volume but gave a small wave back, and Kanon gave the pair a smile. Kasumi tried to approach them, but Arisa took her hand and led her away.

“Remember who we’re here for,” she told her as they sat down. The chairs were as comfortable as they’d looked in the photos and Arisa had to stop herself from sinking into a slouch. Maybe the inflated prices included comfort tax.

The décor was similarly cosy, with lamps shaped like crescent moons dotted up above and stylized paintings of tea and tarts framed on the walls. Piano notes accompanied the quiet conversation and Arisa vaguely recognized the song as one she’d learned many years ago, if her memory served. Waitresses wandered with the kind of pristine posture Arisa could only dream of after so long spent slouched in front of her laptop. They were dressed in muted tones that made Arisa fiddle with the buttons on her cardigan, feeling too flashy in her hidden dress.

Kasumi set her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands. “Do you know what you’re getting?” she asked.

Arisa took a menu to browse. “Nothing until Aya-senpai’s here. Maybe the cheesecake,” she said after a moment, pointing to it as she handed the menu over. “What about you?”

“Hmm…” Kasumi made a show of scanning the menu with great focus, particularly interested in the back. Putting it down and poking her own cheek, she said, “I think I know just what to get.” Her coy little smile was infectious.

Arisa let out a sigh that became a chuckle halfway through. She’d soon find out what was in store for her. “You think you’re subtle, don’t you?”

“Not really!”

The doorbell jingled along to the patter of kitten heels. Arisa looked up to see Aya in the doorway, collecting her breath while scanning the room and finding Chisato and Kanon first. Her bandmate gave her a small smile and inclined her head in Arisa’s direction before returning to her tea.

“Aya-senpai!” Kasumi exclaimed, rising from her seat.

“Volume,” Arisa scolded half-heartedly.

Aya hurried over as quick as she could without making a scene. Excitement and nervousness battled on her face, all bright eyes and nibbled lips. “S-sorry I’m late!” she stammered. “Were you waiting long?”

“No, we were early, don’t worry,” Arisa assured her. She made to gesture to a seat but quickly stopped herself. To offer the seat beside her would be too forward, wouldn’t it? And offering the other would seem to shoo her away. It was like Aya’s own anxiety had seeped into her, but who was Arisa kidding? Her leg had been bouncing before her second date arrived.

The seat to her right it was. Aya sat down and drummed her fingers on her lap, looking poised to spring back up at a moment’s notice. Beside her, Arisa pointedly relaxed a bit, sinking into the cushioning, and Aya took the cue to calm down.

“That’s good to know!” she said. “I wanted to get here early too but I got stopped by a fan…” Despite her embarrassment, she looked almost proud to explain her reasoning. The rose-tinted glasses that seemed to be the extent of her ‘disguise’ were absent today, not that Arisa thought that would stop any fans in the first place.

Kasumi grinned. “I think Arisa wanted to arrive early too, she ran most of the way here.”

Arisa’s head whipped around to her. “T-that’s not—!" she sputtered, then turned to Aya. “She’s taking that out of context!”

“Do you _want_ me to give the context?” Kasumi waggled her brows.

“You’ll foot the bill yourself,” Arisa hissed through grit teeth.

Aya just giggled and lost some of the tension in her shoulders. That smile arose before Arisa could look away and it felt like staring into a star. Lisa had mentioned the importance of picking out one thing to be the centrepiece of her outfit, something that tied the whole look together. That had ended up being her dress, the one currently hidden behind a cardigan. For Kasumi, it was clearly her blouse, peppered with shooting stars. Meanwhile Aya’s shy grin drew Arisa’s attention better than any showy accessory. It perfectly complimented her adorable look; curved, glossy lips the same shade of pink as her fittingly pastel dress.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Aya said happily, turning to share her smile with Kasumi. Arisa caught herself and looked away before she could be caught staring. The warm cardigan suddenly felt stifling.

Arisa cleared her throat. “Do you get stopped by fans a lot?” she asked.

The smile became a pout and Aya’s shoulders drooped. “I wish,” she lamented. “I bet I could go out in costume and not get much attention, it’s so unfair.”

“Really?” Arisa asked, visibly surprised. “I thought… people really like you, right? Don’t they rush to like your photos?”

 _Shit_ , she cringed as soon as the words left her mouth. Now she’d implicated herself. Whatever, Aya already knew, just let it go.

Thankfully it brightened Aya up, if only a bit. “I guess I do get more attention now than I used to. Yeah…” She gripped the edge of the table. “Yeah! It’ll just get better over time!” Arisa smiled along with her until she turned and added, “A-and maybe then, you’ll have to be quicker to be the first person to like my posts, hehe.”

Arisa’s shoulders shot up and she fidgeted in her chair. Kasumi laughed along while Arisa tried to collect herself, stammering out a, “Yeah, m-maybe…”

Shortly after Aya arrived, they each decided their orders. Earlier, Arisa hadn’t been sure whether to eat breakfast or skip it, not wanting to go into the date on too empty a stomach nor be too full to finish her food. Naturally she gave the decision far more thought than it was worth. She ended up deliberating so long that there was no time to eat anyway, so she was hungry for some overpriced cake.

“Is Chisato-chan looking?” Aya asked quietly.

Arisa glanced over. Across the room, Chisato was hiding a chuckle behind her hand as Kanon stammered herself pink.

“No.”

Aya breathed out. “Oh good. I think I’ll order the cheesecake then.”

_Dammit. Copycat!_

Arisa picked the menu back up and looked for something else. “Shirasagi-san wouldn’t judge you for it, right?” she asked. “She’s got a cake herself.”

“Yeah, but it’s like the rules are different for her,” Aya said. “And I’m not brave enough to point out the hypocrisy,” she added, rubbing the back of her neck.

Hardly surprising, but hardly fair. “Maybe we could get Saaya to slip you some pastries at school without her noticing,” Arisa said, glancing at Kasumi for approval.

Aya’s bashful thanks were cut off as a waitress arrived and the three of them placed their orders. For Aya, a caramel cheesecake and some kind of latte Arisa had never heard of. For Arisa herself, the inviting hot chocolate Aya had successfully marketed and a slice of honey cake. Kasumi chose cinnamon pancakes and green tea, surprisingly. Perhaps Arisa had influenced her tastes.

“Anything to calm you down is a solid choice,” Arisa commended once the waitress had left.

Kasumi tilted her head, saying, “I’m already relaxed though, with you two here.” Both faces opposite her turned pink and her shoulders shook as she laughed. “Do you want me to share it? You two look more jittery than me.”

The incessantly jolting leg stopped on command. Arisa willed away any sign of her nerves and put on a straight face. “I’m not jittery, it’s just cold,” she said, hoping they’d not notice her perspiration. The wool cardigan had seemed a decent choice at the time, hiding the flashy fashion Lisa had imposed on her, but under the café lights she was having second thoughts.

“How about you, Aya-senpai?” Kasumi asked.

Aya thought for a moment. “Green tea is healthy, right?” she said. “It might help balance out my latte.”

“Not as fancy for showing off online, though,” Arisa said.

“The fancy stuff is more popular with my followers,” Aya confessed shyly.

In a few short minutes their orders arrived. Arisa’s hot chocolate and Aya’s latte were hardly distinguishable beneath their layers of cream, but Aya could tell them apart by the shapes of their glasses. Kasumi sipped her hot green tea with her pinkie sticking out, winking at her dates, and Aya giggled into her drink while Arisa gave her a dry look. They each enjoyed a sip of tea, Arisa being curious of its quality despite feigning disinterest. It ended up being one of the best she’d tasted, but fell short of her grandma’s brew. She cut off a bite of honey cake to wash it down, reddening as her stomach groaned and like a chain reaction, so did the other girls’. It seemed they’d all skipped breakfast.

“Do you come here with Pastel✽Palettes?” Kasumi asked, cutting off a piece of pancake.

Aya glanced in Chisato and Kanon’s direction. “Not yet, actually. Chisato-chan only told me about this place recently, I think she wanted to keep it as her and Kanon-chan’s spot.”

 _Or maybe she doesn’t want you all to clean out your bank accounts,_ Arisa thought.

“Ohhh,” Kasumi said. “Maybe we should make it our spot too!”

Arisa choked on her cake and glared at her girlfriend. _Don’t be so presumptuous! And where do you think you’d get the money?_

She stiffened as she felt a few pats on the back; Aya’s touch was feather-light, as though worried she’d break her. Embarrassingly, being treated so gently made Arisa’s heart all aflutter.

“Are you alright, Arisa-chan?” Aya asked with a concerned face.

“Y-yeah, sorry,” Arisa said. A sip of hot chocolate helped calm her heart. “Anyway, maybe if we do hang out again…” _And it’s a strong ‘maybe’_ , she thought, “…We should choose somewhere that’s not already been claimed. That’d be more special, wouldn’t it?”

She gave Kasumi a firm look and she seemed to get her point, wearing a sheepish face.

Arisa couldn’t decide whether the date was going well. The food was good, her drink had singed her tongue a bit but tasted nice regardless, and both of her dates seemed happy. Kasumi’s forward comments made her worry that Aya might be uncomfortable, but she just blushed and laughed and, oh god, scooted closer. Arisa was far too reserved to show so much interest herself, and far too worried about the consequences, but Aya didn’t seem to mind. Pushing past her own shyness, Aya seemed happy to do enough flirting for the both of them. Hers was a soft and subtle affection, sweet as the marshmallows bobbing in Arisa’s drink. Maybe the date’s outcome wasn’t for Arisa to decide.

She’d not realised just how hungry she was. The honey cake was gone in minutes, washed down with a helping of hot chocolate, and it warmed her enough that she finally took off the cardigan.

Without it, she felt exposed as if she were laying herself bare. Alone in the mirror, she’d had no point of reference and could appreciate her own appearance more objectively, but out in public, with two other girls she found far prettier than herself, her shoulders felt broader, her sleeves tighter, and her body made of harsh edges rather than smoother lines.

Aya glanced over as Arisa nervously folded the cardigan on her lap. Her eyes widened and she set down her drink with a _clack_. “Oh, Arisa-chan, that dress!” she said excitedly, placing her hands over her heart.

Startled, Arisa stuttered, “Th-this? What about it?”

“I’ve wanted that dress for ages!” Aya said. “Lisa-chan recommended it when I asked her for fashion advice. I couldn’t afford it at the time though, I spent all my money here.” She didn’t seem all too jealous, instead sparkling appraisingly.

 _Lisa-san…_ Arisa sighed inwardly. That’d explain her insistence on this particular dress. She’d assumed that Lisa simply knew Aya’s tastes – the lilac dress was frillier than Arisa’s usual clothes, though she found its colour quite complimentary. Despite her insecurities, knowing that Aya had sought it herself made her feel kind of pretty by association.

“A-anyway!” Aya continued. “You look really cute!”

 _Cute…_ Arisa felt warmer than she had with the cardigan on. Her mind went blank.

“Uh, ah, thanks. You can have it if you want,” she said unthinkingly.

Aya’s eyebrows shot up. “I—huh?”

Kasumi snorted.

“Um, I-I mean!” Arisa came back online. Aya’s cheeks were dusted pink and not to be outdone, Arisa’s own face started to burn. “You could, borrow it sometime, to save money, if you want,” she fumbled.

Aya twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “A-ah, that’s really nice of you, Arisa-chan,” she said with a small, shy smile.

In the corner of her eye, Arisa spotted Kasumi watching them with her face in her hands. Her squished cheeks made a grin tug at Arisa’s lips, but she looked away and cleared her throat. “Think nothing of it,” she said calmly. With a bit more care, she finished off her cake, and found Kasumi’s plate already empty.

“I _thought_ you’d been a bit quiet.”

Kasumi hummed curiously and looked down at her plate. “Oh! Yeah, it’s yummy!”

Arisa smiled. “Glad you liked it.” Her own honey cake had been tasty enough to almost justify the price, and large enough that she wouldn’t go hungry. Even so, she was a tad envious of Aya and her delectable-looking cheesecake. It must have been apparent, as she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Aya with her fork outstretched.

“Arisa-chan?” Aya said. On the end of her fork was the last bite of cake.

“Whuh?”

“You kept glancing at my cake so I thought you might want a bite,” Aya explained with a tempting waggle of the fork.

She’d not even realised she was doing it. A glance at Kasumi’s face showed that she had noticed, too. “You said you were gonna get that but then changed your mind,” Kasumi called her out.

“I didn’t wanna copy,” Arisa quietly confessed.

“You should finish it then!” Aya insisted. “I would’ve ordered something else if I’d known… But, oh, you can save me from the extra calories,” she said playfully.

Arisa grew nervous but hid it with a huff. “If you’re certain.”

Something moved in her peripheral vision but she paid it no mind and leaned in, biting off the cake before she could fluster ever more. It was a touch stronger than her usual taste, though not unpleasant for it. Had she ordered a cheesecake herself, she would have probably gone for blueberry over caramel. Tasting it from Aya’s fork make it delightful regardless.

“Awww!” Kasumi cooed in the background.

A flash dazzled Arisa and she turned to face the back of Kasumi’s phone. Behind it, Kasumi wore a brilliant grin, and said, “Oh you look so cute! It’s like…” she thought for a second, “…a squirrel’s mugshot!”

Kasumi turned the phone to show a photo of Arisa's mortifying face, cheeks stuffed with two bites’ worth of cake she’d bitten off in one.

While Arisa flushed, Aya spluttered out a laugh and bit her tongue trying to stop it. She placed a comforting hand on Arisa’s shoulder which hardly made up for the giggling.

“You fucker—” Arisa recovered and swiped at the phone but Kasumi was faster, pulling it back and jumping up from her seat. “Sit down!” Arisa barked.

“You sit down!”

“I _am_ sitting down!”

“You’re—you’re not…” Aya interjected.

Maybe she wasn’t.

Arisa sat down and kept her eyes trained on the phone, only looking away bashfully when Kasumi slipped it into her breast pocket.

“Delete it.”

“Arisaaa~!”

“Don’t you ‘Arisa’ me!” she said, jabbing the air with her fork.

Laser-focused on Kasumi’s betrayal, Arisa almost didn’t hear Aya coming to her defence. “Maybe you should delete it, Kasumi-chan…” she said. “We’ve seen it now anyway, so you don’t have to keep it.”

Not the most dignifying defence but she’d take it. Kasumi fixed them both with puppy-dog eyes but while it tugged at Arisa’s heart, Aya seemed unfazed. No doubt she’d employed the tactic enough times herself to not be affected by it.

“Okay, okay,” Kasumi said, dragging her words out. She tapped at her phone with a pout then showed Arisa the screen for proof.

“Good,” Arisa said. “Maybe if you’re good we can take a nicer photo later?” Her smugly patronizing tone trailed off at the end as she glanced to Aya for approval.

Aya clapped her hands. “Ooh, yes!”

That brightened Kasumi up in an instant. “Oh, let’s do it now!”

“I just said we’d do it later,” Arisa said. “You’re not pouting your way out.”

Kasumi stuck her tongue out but went along with it. While she struck up a conversation with Aya about vocal training, Arisa took another look through the menu. Her purse was far too light for her to think of ordering something else, but curiosity tugged at her. Despite what she’d said, she wouldn’t mind coming back – even if she’d have to save up for a while. If they visited later in the day there’d also be more to choose from, and it might feel more romantic, too. The thought made her warm all over again.

She became aware of a gaze pointed her way and looked up to see Kasumi reading the back of the menu. Aya trailed off beside her and they both watched as Kasumi lit up, standing back up from her seat.

“I nearly forgot!” she said. “We need to get ice cream for dessert!”

Arisa frowned. Her grandma had been fairly generous with her allowance this week, but she hadn’t expected much success from Kasumi. How much had she managed to get from her mother?

“Isn’t it all dessert?” Aya murmured, mentally counting calories.

“Dessert squared,” Kasumi said intelligently. “You two wait here, I’ll be quick!”

Without another word, she was off to find a waitress, leaving Arisa and Aya together. Arisa watched her go with a distrustful look, wholly prepared to end up footing the bill herself. Granted, some ice cream might help cool her down and if it was on par with the rest of the food, she knew she’d enjoy it. Meanwhile Aya looked like she’d quickly made peace with it, allowing herself the treat. It helped that Chisato and Kanon had left.

“She never stops eating, does she?” Aya said.

“You haven’t seen the half of it,” Arisa sighed. “Is she like this with you?”

Aya nodded. “Sometimes we eat together when you’re busy with student council work,” she explained. A fond smile graced her, “I always end up feeding her a bit, she’s so cute…”

The buns weren’t just for show, then. It seemed Kasumi had a habit of charming food out of others like a well-fed cat insisting it was wasting away.

Both girls sat quiet, sipping the dregs of their drinks, while Kasumi took her sweet time. After some moments, Aya spoke up, “You know, that dress really does suit you. I think you pull it off better than I could.”

Surprise coloured Arisa’s face. “You think?” she asked incredulously. “This is way more your style though.”

Aya raised her eyebrows. “Oh, is that why you wore it?”

Arisa and her big mouth. She fumbled with her words but didn’t produce an answer, just trailing off timidly and averting her eyes. Aya relaxed into a smile and said, “That makes me really happy, you know. It’s sweet of you.” She shuffled a little closer and brushed their shoulders together affectionately. Arisa felt her heart fumble and miss a note.

Those honeyed words didn’t match Arisa’s perception of herself. Kasumi’s endless affection had been alien for a while, but through sheer persistence she’d gotten Arisa to accept it. Even if a part of her still thought she didn’t deserve it, another part had grown fond and did its best to drown the cold voice out. But despite that progress, she was back to the beginning with Aya. Her self-loathing ran rampant, convincing her that Aya would never like her, could never love her, not as she was. Everything she’d learned with Kasumi was locked behind a wall that could crack, but never break.

She’d once heard that a measure of self-love was needed before another’s love could come through. While she would have liked to imagine herself as somebody unconcerned with such suggestions, made by people who didn’t know the first thing about her, she knew that wasn’t the case. Naturally, Kasumi had ignored that supposed rule and wriggled through the tiny cracks, but Aya wouldn’t have such luck. The memories brought back by her gaudy old gift were like viscous cement sealing the cracks to deny Aya’s love, and gluing Arisa’s mouth shut before she could voice her own. It didn’t matter if Aya’s affection was subtle or clear as day. It still had to contend with Arisa’s loathsome wall.

But anything was better than the stasis she’d known. Locked away in her room, avoiding all others, refusing to even try to better her situation. Arisa had lost years to something outside of her control and then simply continued, throwing more time away because improvement seemed something to fear. She owed it to those who’d helped her this far to make a conscious effort herself.

“I’m sorry for asking, Aya-senpai. But, just to clarify, is this a date?”

Aya’s eyebrows raised. “Oh! Um, i-it doesn’t have to be if you don’t want.” She looked away for a moment and fidgeted. “But… if it’s okay with you, and with Kasumi-chan, I’d like it to be. Is that okay?”

_No, it’s unbelievable._

“Th-that’s okay with me,” Arisa said.

Wearing her own surprise, Aya looked back at her, wide-eyed. Arisa attempted a small smile that ended up looking more like a wince, and Aya returned it brightly. The pair of them stared at their drinks.

“This might sound weird but, Kasumi kind of taught me a lot about you,” Aya said quietly. “Not _a lot_ a lot, just… she talks about you all the time. At first you sounded kind of cold,” her tone was apologetic. “And I get the feeling that you’re used to people thinking that. Am I right? Sorry if this is invasive.”

“No, that’s accurate,” Arisa said.

“Mm. Well, that changed a lot over time. The more she talked about you, the warmer you started to sound. And I saw it too, whenever I saw you playing live, or performed with you. Do you know how happy you look on-stage?” Aya asked. “You look so much more… authentic. Maybe that’s presumptuous, but still.”

A sentiment as old as the band itself. Arisa had long known that she shone brighter with the others, and though it had been embarrassing having to rely on them for that, the results spoke for themselves. By herself she could easily slip back into the self she’d left behind, even now, but as her hands swam across the keyboard and joined her friends’ sound, she could be seen for who she was.

“I felt a little jealous, actually…” Aya continued. “And I thought it was just because she had a girlfriend and I didn’t, but turns out it was more specific than that. I don’t think I have to explain why I like Kasumi-chan. I’m sure you already know some good reasons, as her girlfriend. But I… I like you for different reasons, mostly. Being an idol can be exciting to a fault. And with all the pressure to do well, it’s nice to spend time with someone comfortable. Comforting, I mean.”

That lauded warmth crept up on Arisa, wrapping her up like a cardigan. Her stare bored a hole in the bottom of her glass, watching the remaining marshmallows swim, and she knew that her face was burning. But rather than the hot, prickly discomfort she knew by name, the heat in Arisa’s cheeks felt soft, like a phantom kiss.

“Kasumi-chan talks about how you keep the band rational, or try to, at least,” Aya giggled. “You help keep things going smoothly, and you’re just, responsible, and there’s a cosiness to that. Even now, I’m rambling like an idiot, and you probably think I’m weird. But I don’t feel so stressed because I’m rambling to you.”

The flooding praise left Arisa in a state, needing a good moment to process it all. Once she did, she stammered, “W-well, I’m glad you can talk to me about… um, your feelings. I didn’t think I was so comforting.”

She was given a sympathetic smile. “It’s the truth,” Aya said. “And, I’m sure you’ve got your own struggles too. I mean, everyone does. So, I don’t wanna sound like I just like you because you’re comforting to be around. I want to help comfort you, too,” she insisted. “It’s a two-way thing! Like, you like me because I’m cute, right?” Aya made a shy little peace sign as though posing for a photo.

Arisa blushed and fussed with the hem of her dress. “W-well, I mean that’s part of it, but it’s not just, I don’t like you just for that, there’s also—”

Aya held up her hands to stop her. “Don’t say any more or I’ll cry!” she laughed, already sounding watery. “I just mean, you think I’m cute, and it’s a two-way thing like I said. I like you for how cute you are, too! I don’t think you give yourself enough credit for that.”

Well, credit where credit was due, then, Arisa was feeling better about the dress. In the mirror, away from all judgement, it had been euphoric to behold. But with Aya’s kind words, she found herself feeling cute as she was, even in this public place.

And comforting, was she? She’d never thought of herself that way. Arisa kept the band on track because otherwise, they’d probably hurt themselves. It was less a labour of love and more a bare necessity, at least that was what she’d told herself. To an outsider looking in, perhaps her responsible nature, when mixed with the affection she’d begun to show, resembled something warmer.

“Y-you don’t have to say all that,” Arisa said. “I’m really not that good.”

“Well, I think you are,” Aya argued. “And I hope I can change your mind.”

* * *

Kasumi returned shortly after, breaking the ensuing quiet. Her dates looked up with expressions near-identical in their shyness, and she shot them both a grin. “I spent all my money!”

She laid down a bowl in the middle of the table, with three large scoops of ice cream. One strawberry, one vanilla and one chocolate, already beginning to melt together into a colour Arisa couldn’t name.

“Just how much money did your mother give you?” Arisa asked, grabbing a spoon.

“Not much,” Kasumi confessed. “But Aa-chan saw me being sad and gave me some more. Anything for her sisters in law~.”

“Plural?” Aya squeaked. She dropped her own spoon with a clatter.

Arisa handed it back. “Don’t listen to her. She’s just trying to get a rise.”

“Speaking of which!” Kasumi said, giving up all pretences. Quickly she seized the scoop of vanilla on her spoon and pushed the bowl towards Arisa, who eyed the remaining scoops in confusion. Arisa looked up and locked eyes with her.

“We get one each,” Kasumi said, gesturing to the brown and pink scoops. “Who do you like more? Me, or Aya-senpai?”

Aya played along with an affected gasp. Arisa wasn’t so charitable.

“Aya-senpai,” she said flatly, scooping up the strawberry.

Once Kasumi had stopped whining, each scoop was sliced in three. The ice cream had melted into a puddle of clashing flavours by the time they were done, more like cold, sweet soup than anything else. Enjoyable enough regardless, and good for cooling down. Once it was gone, Kasumi lamented that she’d have to pay her sister back eventually.

The condition had been that they could take a photo if Kasumi behaved. She’d very much not, but then Arisa had managed to turn the trick around on her, so she didn’t think it counted. Aya checked her makeup in her mirror for a moment, Arisa cleaned cheesecake crumbs from her face, and the three of them leaned in together. The photo turned out better than Arisa had expected, her own face not looking out of place, and Aya spruced it up with stickers and a filter. Thankfully, the filter just about hid the redness of their cheeks.

“I’ll send it to you both later,” Aya said. “I probably shouldn’t post this one online. After the last one, people might start getting ideas…”

“Just say you’re joining Poppin’Party,” Kasumi suggested.

Arisa flicked her arm. “I don’t know if that would be worse.”

They paid and tipped and parted ways. Kasumi seemed like she could go for another round, maybe a joint practice or such, but Arisa and Aya silently agreed that they could do with some time to cool off. Laying your feelings bare was a tiring thing and each now had plenty to think about. Another date was casually agreed upon, the details to be decided later. Aya left for home with a spring in her step, and Kasumi followed Arisa. Grandma would be preparing comfort food for dinner, to either soothe them should the date have gone poorly or help them relax if it had been exciting.

Arisa was too tired to deny herself the comfort of Kasumi’s hand. They interlaced their fingers and walked in comfortable quiet, until Kasumi asked, “So, what were you and Aya-senpai talking about?”

“I thought you’d been eavesdropping,” Arisa confessed.

“Oh, I was! But you were both very quiet.”

Arisa chuckled. “Alright. Well, I asked if it was a date, just to check. She said yes.”

Kasumi fixed her with an ‘I-told-you-so’ grin.

“Zip it.”

“Hehe. Was that all? You were talking for a while.”

How long exactly, Arisa wasn’t sure. At the time it had felt drawn-out, being subjected to a screed about how nice she was. But now, after the fact, she remembered it as a flash. A sudden, quick crackle of positive energy that left her warm and aflutter.

“She explained why it is that she likes me,” Arisa said. “I still don’t totally get it but maybe I never will.”

“I’m sure you’ll get there,” Kasumi assured. “What did she say?”

“She said I’m comforting, like being around me is relaxing. Can you believe it? Me, with my temper?”

Kasumi hummed. “I think I get what she means. Things feel like they’ll be okay when you’re around, you don’t let things get out of hand.”

Arisa raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you’re not calling me a killjoy.”

“I’m making an effort to be polite,” Kasumi smiled sunnily. “But, yeah. She’s not wrong. I know when I’m with you, all my problems melt away. Like ice cream!”

“That’s good…” Arisa said.

Being treated as a source of solace was a confusing thing. It should have assuaged her fears and filled her with pride to know that she had that effect, and it did, to an extent. However, that frost in her mind chipped in uninvited. To be seen in such a way only worsened the potential consequences of finally coming out; would it feel like a betrayal, to know that the person you put your faith in, who brought you comfort, had been hiding a discomforting secret?

Arisa already guilted herself enough for not opening up about it. Things had changed so quickly without prompt or preparation, she’d been wrapped up in a whirlwind of new experiences and had her world flipped on its head. It had been such a drastic shift that now, only two sides could be seen. Her former self, isolated from others, hoarding insecurities and never daring to be herself, and the person she felt she must become, open to a fault. The idea of a middle ground, someone comfortable opening up but without the pressure to rush, simply didn’t occur to her. The way Arisa used to be… she detested it, to the point of feeling like she almost had to become its opposite. She was sure that she’d have to come out eventually, but it could never be that easy. If she found herself unlucky, everything could come crashing down.

But things could not continue as they were. Even if sharing this part of her was scary, or would ruin things altogether, Arisa had to seek that comfort Aya spoke of. It may not be guaranteed, in fact her pessimist side swore that it was impossible, but there was a chance and she needed it more than anything. Just for the relief of letting it out, not keeping it endlessly bottled up like a storm in her head, she had to bring an end to her worry.

That would be then. A plan had to be formed first, this wasn’t something she could dive into blindly. Now, however, she had a different worry. Smaller for sure but no less important.

They were almost home when Arisa spoke up again. “Kasumi.”

“Hm?”

“About this whole… thing, with the three of us,” Arisa said. It still felt odd to talk about. “I feel like, maybe I was focused on Aya-senpai today. Partly because you ran off for ice cream,” she added, “but still. I just, I want to make sure you know that I’m no less… interested in you. I don’t know if it came off that way, but if it ever does, I want you to let me know.”

Kasumi smiled contentedly. “I know. It’s your first time really being with her so it’s only natural! You don’t need to worry about me,” she said.

“But I do. I know you don’t like looking sad, but I want to know that you’ll talk to me if I make a mistake here.”

“I will!” Kasumi said. “But you don’t need to worry over nothing, I trust you. Do you trust me?”

Trust her? More than anybody else, besides Grandma. And yet, Arisa had been burned before. Even Aya’s heartfelt ramble was conditional, she was certain. Ready to be revoked should her luck run out. She had to stop living like this. Afraid to commit, to fully accept affection, wrapping love in guilt over something that probably wouldn’t change a thing. Arisa knew Kasumi, she was getting to know Aya, and they were some of the kindest people she’d known. But Arisa had a long memory.

She squeezed Kasumi’s hand and put on a plastic smile. “Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being a little long, and it was tough deciding what fluff to cut just to get it shortened down this much.
> 
> With all the pressure and excitement that comes with being an idol, I can imagine Aya being drawn to someone responsible and down to earth. I also like the idea of Arisa and Aya both seeing each other initially through rose-tinted glasses: Arisa sees Aya through her carefully curated social media presence, and Aya sees Arisa through Kasumi's glowing descriptions. Thankfully the real thing lives up to the expectations, though Arisa still worries that Aya isn't seeing her with crystal clarity.
> 
> In Chapter 4, Arisa's long-buried troubles begin to be confronted, and some progress is finally made.


	4. Frigid Thoughts and the Warm Night

Wrapped up in a mess of contradictory feelings, Arisa’s actual responsibilities had shrivelled into background noise. In the student council room of Hanasakigawa, she moved mechanically, seeing to any forms passed her way without sparing them more than a glance. Experience had taught her to be mindful if not wary of those nearby, so she still paid her peers _some_ attention. Arisa noticed how Rinko seemed a mix of calm and concern. Relieved to not have to deal with the stress of social interaction, but unsure about why her secretary was being even quieter than usual.

Sayo didn’t seem to notice. Then again, beneath so impassive a facade, she could have known exactly what was going on and Arisa wouldn’t be able to tell. The work was still being done, Arisa’s muscle memory taking over, so all was well with her.

“—san?”

It was a little frustrating. Sayo was one of the few people who could potentially help. Only if she was willing, of course, and seeing as this problem was irrelevant to studies or music, she might very well decline. But there was some potential there, and to see concern only on Rinko’s timid face didn’t help. _‘You picked the wrong Roselia member!’_ Arisa cursed the powers that be. Having others concerned for her wellbeing wasn’t something she much desired but it’d make life that bit easier if she didn’t have to go out of her way to ask for it.

“—igaya-san?”

Seeking advice online would be much easier and would produce a wider spectrum of results. She could consider them all and make an informed decision as to which approach best suited her. Arisa had already taken a look with the intent to do just that, but the countless conflicting answers had only led her to overanalyse. That didn’t help anyone, she did enough of that already, so instead she would turn to the girl most likely to give her a blunt, straightforward answer, and hope for the best.

“Ichigaya-san.”

Arisa looked up. Her pen still scribbled of its own accord as she realised both Rinko and Sayo were looking at her, one toying nervously with the strap of her bag, the other raising her brow.

“Our duties are done for the day,” Sayo continued. “Shirokane-san needs to lock up.”

Rinko held up the key gingerly as though she still wasn’t sure about being entrusted with the responsibility.

“Oh, r-right, sorry,” Arisa said. Looking down, she saw that she’d been absently tracing her own name for at least a minute, her signature ending up a bolder black than those on the other forms. She placed the paper on top of the pile and gathered up her things, steeling herself to ask for Sayo’s time.

“Good work today,” Sayo said, turning to leave. From what Arisa remembered of the booking form at Circle, Roselia weren’t due to practice today – something of a rare occurrence. Ideally, Sayo would have no qualms with staying behind a moment, as long as Arisa’s recent luck lasted.

Rinko gave Arisa a small smile, the best she could do without wanting to pry. It was the final bit of encouragement Arisa needed.

“Sayo-senpai, um, are you busy right now?” she asked.

Sayo paused in the doorway and glanced back at her. “No more than usual,” she said. “Is something urgent?”

“Uh…” _Depends how long you want to keep putting it off_ _._ “Sort of?”

The past couple of weeks since the café date had been plagued with anxiety, even as Arisa continued to chat and text with Aya. Her worrying hadn’t been noticed yet but she didn’t want to reach that point. Though she was far better at subtlety than someone like Kasumi, she still didn’t trust herself to be asked “what's wrong?” and not messily spill her thoughts like tears. Arisa needed to make a solid step forward or she’d end up back in that void of progress, she could already feel herself starting to sink.

In the background, Arisa spied Rinko fidgeting and silently apologised. She didn’t want to make her feel unwelcome, but this was a matter she couldn’t yet be open about – that was exactly why she sought Sayo’s help in the first place, after all. Even if Rinko was perhaps the least likely person in the world to openly judge her, that pesky logic was powerless against Arisa's anxiety.

“Hm.” Arisa could see the debate in Sayo's head, of kindness versus practice. After a moment, she eyed her bandmate, saying, “Shirokane-san, you mentioned having plans. Shall I lock up for you?”

Rinko startled when addressed. “A-ah, if you don’t mind…” she said, handing over the key and looking visibly unburdened. She left the room with a short bow, leaving Arisa and Sayo alone.

Still standing with folded arms, Sayo asked, “Is it school or music that you need help with, Ichigaya-san?”

Arisa nervously brushed down her skirt. “It’s ah, it’s neither, actually.”

Miraculously, Sayo didn’t just up and leave. Instead her shoulders relaxed, and she put on a tiny smile. “Trouble with Toyama-san?” she asked. Arisa nodded without looking at her and the two of them took their seats. Kasumi was a subject generally best discussed sitting down.

“Forgive me for prying,” Sayo said, “but I’ve heard tell that you plan to make it double.”

Arisa stiffened. That… sister of hers, of course. Arisa and Kasumi knew not to openly discuss their date with the idol, but Aya could safely tell her band. Hina wouldn’t have a care for rules and regulations, she’d share the news with her sister at a moment’s notice, even though said sister hardly even knew Aya.

Sayo took her open-mouthed silence as affirmation. “Hina finds Maruyama-san’s life amusing and likes to share details,” she said apologetically. “Though, outside of what she’s said, I’m not overly familiar with Maruyama-san, or Toyama-san for that matter. Should I assume you’re struggling with something more specific?”

The inference was clear. It had happened several months ago, and rather awkwardly too, but Arisa had been quite relieved to discover another like her. Sayo had been initially flustered, an unbecoming state, but similarly grew to appreciate the knowledge. In the months that followed their mutual revelation, Arisa and Sayo had discovered a new sort of respect for each other. That solidarity they shared had turned the student council room into perhaps the most welcoming spot in the school as far as Arisa was concerned, safer in the knowledge that she shared it with someone she could trust.

“It’s… yeah. It’s not something I feel I can talk to them about,” Arisa said. “Or, I mean, it’s something I need to talk to them about, but I don’t know how.”

It helped that she and Sayo shared other similarities, too. Both helped keep their bands focused, though with Yukina by her side, Sayo arguably faced less of an uphill battle. Both had initially refused to acknowledge their feelings toward their crushes, from what Arisa had heard. Both treated their gender troubles as exactly that – troubles, regarding their situation with a solemnness that could border on the overdramatic, each insecure if for slightly different reasons. If anybody could advise her on how best to come out, it would surely be Sayo.

“Do you want to tell them you’re trans?” Sayo asked.

“I need to,” Arisa said. Beneath the desk, she bunched up her skirt in her hands. “It’s—I can’t keep leading them on, can I?”

Sayo’s brow creased. “I wouldn’t call it that,” she said. “But if you want to come out, I’m sure they’ll support you. They seem like the type.”

“You think?”

“Unless they’ve given you a reason to believe otherwise.”

Arisa hummed noncommittally. If Sayo had faith in the pair despite not knowing them well, that should have inspired some confidence. After all, Arisa knew Kasumi about as well as she knew herself and Aya wore her heart on her tear-dampened sleeve, and the logical part of her knew that they both were understanding. Everybody in the room, the girl who knew them better and the girl who hardly knew them at all, agreed on this. So why did she still feel afraid?

In answer, another detail floated forth from the back of her mind. It had always been there, but Arisa had never sat down and considered it much, just let it and the worry it brought fester in the background.

“Aya-senpai is an idol,” she mumbled, making Sayo cock her head. “She’s been training to be an idol for years… I don’t know much about the industry but it’s—they’re idols. They’re meant to be like, role models for girls, right?”

“I do hope not…” Sayo murmured, thinking of her sister.

“Idols have to take perfect care of their appearances,” Arisa continued, remembering Aya’s cheesecake blues. “They’re held up to these high standards of beauty, they have to look _perfect_. I’m… I can’t reach that.” She distantly remembered those long-gone nights with her eyes inches away from the laptop screen, longing to be like those caricatures of cuteness on the internet. “Aya-senpai has been in the industry for years. What if that’s what she’s been taught to expect? What if... she’s been taught that girls like me—like us—are wrong?”

With a soft _thud_ muffled by a sigh, Sayo crossed her arms and set them down on the desk. She wore a frown that she probably didn’t know was there, with how it contrasted her attempt at comfort. “That’s a lot of ‘if’s. It sounds like she’s fond of you, I’m sure that even if those ideas had been implanted, she’d change her mind for you,” she said.

Arisa locked her knees together, drawing herself in. “I don’t know that, though. I can’t assume it’d be okay.”

“Yet you’re fine with assuming the worst,” Sayo countered. “Idols are not the embodiment of their industry’s worst parts. Hina is ostensibly an idol and she was… zealously supportive,” she cringed a little at an old memory. “…Granted, that happened before she joined her band, and she's nowhere near as deep into idol culture as Maruyama-san. And given her... quirks, she's likely not the best comparison in most cases." Sayo counted the flaws in her logic on her fingers, oblivious to the small hope draining from Arisa's face. Eventually looking up and taking note, she cleared her throat. “B-but regardless, Maruyama-san is more than just an idol. I doubt she would simply swallow everything she was taught if it went against her morals.”

“But you don’t _know_ that,” Arisa said quietly.

“And neither do you. But from what little I do know of her, she’s as dedicated as they come. If somehow she did hold those beliefs, she would only challenge herself to unlearn them. And she puts up well with Hina’s mannerisms, so I expect she’s already a tolerant girl.”

There was a point that Arisa hadn’t considered. So intent on dividing those she knew into girls like her who could be more-or-less trusted, and those she felt the need to be wary of, she had left out countless other factors. Every band she knew was a melting pot of clashing personalities. She was not as sociable as Kasumi, who wasn’t as responsible as Saaya, who was less breezy than Tae, who lacked Rimi’s sweet tooth. The girl sitting opposite was not the energetic Ako or the more casual Lisa. Pastel✽Palettes was its own diverse mix, too. What was, to Arisa, a core part of her that held her back, might be just a small part of her in Aya’s eyes. No more damning than Hina’s teasing or Chisato’s high expectations, just something that made her who she was. And from Aya’s own explanation, ‘who Arisa was’ had sparked something rosy in her heart.

“Maybe she wouldn’t really mind…” Arisa mumbled.

“I’m sure you’ve nothing to fear,” Sayo said. She unfolded her arms and placed her hands on her lap, losing a little tension of her own. “Toyama-san is already with you, too. I can’t see her of all people having a problem with it, and she’d work through it for you anyway.”

Arisa shuffled in her seat. “Yeah, Kasumi, she’s…” she trailed off with a sigh that sharpened into a huff. “It’s all so stupid. I know her, I know she wouldn’t judge me no matter what, she probably wouldn’t even judge someone who’s actually bad. I should be trusting her but there’s just this wall I can’t get past.”

The frustration had her fingers digging into her legs. She could sit there and listen to Sayo’s reassurance all day but as far as she was concerned, the only way to fully lift this weight would be to scoop it out of her like an unsightly growth. Logic and reason had to contend with a barrier reinforced by sleepless nights, one Arisa could seldom find so much as a crack in. She blamed herself for not trying hard enough to just get over it already. Laziness came naturally to her, she should have been doing more. Sayo said nothing while Arisa glowered at her knees.

As the room grew quiet, a gaggle of students could be heard. A club that had stayed late, perhaps, rivalling even the student council’s commitment. They chatted at a volume that exceeded disciplinary committee regulations, but Sayo paid it no mind. Instead her focus was on Arisa.

The sound turned Arisa's posture suddenly shrunken and shy. Even now, it seemed the far-off chatter of other girls brought on a small wave of worry; she didn’t even seem to notice how her own shoulders hunched. The instinct to make herself small had kicked in unbidden. Without the presence of her closest friends, Arisa felt vulnerable, until the voices faded away and she slowly calmed, her taut face relaxing, shoulders easing down and heels lowering back to the ground. To will away the last slivers of worry, she held the hem of her skirt between her finger and thumb, rubbing the material like a reminder.

“You can’t hope to move on completely, just like that,” Sayo said quietly. “Nothing is gained by berating yourself for not succeeding immediately, it takes time and work.”

“I can work until I pass out. That still won’t make me all better,” Arisa said, growing impatient with herself as she deflected more advice.

“Perhaps not on your own. I only began making progress after I spoke to Hina, the one whom many of my problems revolved around. You’ve not yet reached out to the only people who can properly help.” When Arisa opened her mouth to make an excuse, Sayo continued, “There is no way of removing all risk. To open up to them, you feel you need to get past your issues, but to do that, you need to open up. You’ll simply have to take the risk.”

Arisa slumped in her seat like the most sluggish of students but Sayo let it slide. “There’s no easy way out…” Arisa mumbled. Sayo only nodded silently. Dragging her gaze back up, Arisa asked, “Sayo-senpai, if you don’t mind me asking… how did you come out to Hazawa-san?”

Unsurprisingly, Sayo turned rigid. “Hazawa-san, well, she… hm. I think… I don’t believe you’ll find the answer helpful, Ichigaya-san.”

“Why not?”

Sayo coughed into her fist. “Well, though I was in a similar situation to you… I did find an easy way out. Relatively speaking.” Arisa’s confusion prompted her to explain. “It… was much easier to come out to Hazawa-san after she came out herself.”

A jolt ran through Arisa and Sayo nodded understandingly. “It was a shock to me, as well,” she told Arisa, who was staring bug-eyed. “Imai-san later suggested that I had been… what was her word…? Projecting. She said that not all transgender girls will be as sombre about it as you or I. Some are just as content and ‘normal’ as Hazawa-san.”

“I never would have thought…” Arisa said. “Uh, so, how did she come out to you, then?”

“Quite calmly, actually. She was somewhat nervous but seemed confident in herself. No doubt having been supported for so long by her bandmates must have helped,” Sayo reminisced. Her wistfulness was broken by a sudden noise and she looked to her bag, where her phone was blurting out an alarm. “Ah.” Sayo fished it out and silenced it. “I’m due to make dinner, I’m afraid I must be going,” she told Arisa.

Somewhat disappointed, Arisa stood and picked up her bag while Sayo took the key from her pocket. “I do hope I was able to be of some help,” Sayo said, leading Arisa out of the room. “If you take anything from our talk, let it be this: don’t turn your moment into the spectacle it’s not. I thought of countless ways to come out before Hazawa-san got there first, and in the end, a simple talk was enough. Treat it as normal and you shouldn’t go far wrong.”

With that, she departed, locking the door and walking briskly away. Arisa nodded after her and mumbled her thanks. Nobody else could solve her problems; she knew what she had to do. Perhaps if she was determined to delay, she could seek advice from Tsugumi, now aware that they had something in common. Or Afterglow as a whole for that matter, if they were as supportive as Sayo had said. But Arisa hardly knew them, and she didn’t find much comfort in the idea of airing her secrets to an entire group of friends that she was not a part of – and a boisterous one at that.

That left… her own friends. Jump back a handful of years and relay that thought to her younger self, and she’d never believe it. Friends? Plural? Just one would have been a miracle. Though they didn’t know of her nature and she wasn’t sure about telling them, she knew that they’d try to support her. Even without knowing the crux of the issue, her band would always be encouraging, the three of them each in their own special way.

Just the thought of those three made her feel less alone. Arisa wandered the empty corridors without another girl in sight, but she felt the warmth of her bandmates beside her. It would be a burden, no doubt, gathering them up for her own selfish sake, but they’d never agree. Time and again, they’d made sure she knew that she could turn to them for anything. This was surely not what they could have had in mind, but it fell under the wide blanket of ‘anything’, so maybe she’d take them up on their offer. Arisa took out her phone, opened her recent contacts, and kept walking.

* * *

It had started with Rimi, and then the yawn rippled out through Yamabuki Bakery.

Arisa knew herself as a night owl. Staying up late and browsing the internet had been a near-nightly occurrence some time ago. Before the band, she always had enough energy stored up after a long day of doing nothing to keep herself awake and continue doing nothing. The others were not the same. Saaya slowed down this time of day, weary after hours of good, hard work. Tae had been practicing hard, judging by the state of her fingertips and the guitar case she’d brought along, and needed some rest. Rimi, meanwhile, was just used to an early bedtime.

“Sorry to do this so late,” Arisa said. Frequent practice sessions had taught her to tire, too, and she hid another yawn behind her hand.

Behind the counter, Saaya sat flanked by near-empty shelves, dotted with the handful of loaves she hadn’t sold. As soon as the others arrived, she’d divvied out a few buns to keep them going. She leaned on her forearms and smiled encouragingly. “It’s not a problem,” she said. “Though, I’m wondering why we’re not all here…?”

The details had been scant in Arisa’s quick calls. She’d needed time to gather some courage, put on a braver face, and plan how to broach the subject without really broaching it in whole. The plan hadn’t gotten very far but she wasn’t about to back out. Texting Kasumi and Aya kept her busy and soothed her nerves for a few hours, and then it was time to meet up. The four of them had gathered at Yamabuki Bakery a little after closing time, when they’d have the place to themselves.

Moonlight, pallid against the bakery’s warm lights, cast shapes on the polished floor. The sky fell dark early these days and they didn’t have awfully long to talk – their families would want them home before it turned pitch-black.

“It’s, uh… It’s kind of about Kasumi,” Arisa said, scratching her cheek. “I can’t really talk to her about it.”

Saaya tilted her head in concern. “Is everything okay with you two?”

“Y-yeah, it’s nothing bad, it’s just. I need to talk to her about something but I’m not sure how.”

Beside her, Tae’s eyes widened and she leaned in closer. “Are you gonna propose?” she asked curiously, suddenly more awake.

Arisa startled and shoved her away, red in the face. “No! No-no-no! Why would you think that?!”

Tae stared back at her unfazed, as though it were obvious. “You like her a lot. It might be awkward to marry her and not Aya-senpai, though.”

“You can’t leave one of them out, Arisa-chan…” Rimi said. Next to Tae, she sat holding a chocolate cornet that hadn’t quite set yet, sipping at the chocolate like a warm cup of cocoa.

“I’m not marrying either of them.” _Don’t even fantasize about it, you’ll get distracted._ “Aren’t we too young for that anyway?” Tae shrugged in response like it was only a minor obstacle.

“Is it something serious?” Saaya asked, getting them back on track.

It depended who you asked. To Arisa, it felt like life-or-death, but after her conversation with Sayo, she’d begun to hope that maybe to Kasumi and Aya, it wouldn’t be serious at all. Just a small revelation to lift some worry off her chest. But seeing as it _was_ Arisa…

“Fairly,” she said. “Realistically, she’d probably be okay with it, but I don’t like not knowing for sure.”

Rimi looked at her sympathetically. “Are you okay telling us?”

The three of them had the decency not to look too expectant. Saaya quietly added a second bun to Arisa’s plate, more for comfort than to bribe the info out. “Thanks,” Arisa murmured. “Um, I dunno. I don’t really like telling anyone about it, but I feel like I have to tell Kasumi and Aya-senpai.”

“You don’t have to,” Saaya argued. “Unless it’d hurt them not knowing, you don’t have to share anything. Kasumi would tell you the same.” The other two nodded.

Arisa grimaced, “You say that, but if I don’t tell them it might just make things harder.” Online, she’d seen it compared to ripping off a band-aid. The anticipation was far worse than the act itself, all worrisome build-up followed by a quick flash of discomfort that was over before you knew it. That was the best-case scenario, anyway. It could still turn out poorly, but she was beginning to warm up to the idea that the backlash she feared wasn’t set in stone.

“It’s good to talk to them about it if it’ll make you feel better, just don’t feel like you’re obligated to share everything,” Saaya advised.

Rimi licked chocolate from her lips and leaned across Tae. “I don’t think there’s anything Kasumi-chan wouldn’t support you with,” she told Arisa. “Us too!”

“You could say you’re a murderer and we’d hear you out,” Tae added, making Rimi turn and stare at her. Rimi reddened when she realised how close their faces were and hurriedly leaned back. Saaya watched them both with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t think it’s _that_ bad…” Arisa said. She largely ignored her friends’ fluster, all too used to them dancing around it by now. “I just don’t know how to tell them. Sa—someone told me I should just act natural, but I don’t know that I can do that in the moment.”

Ominously, Tae put on her thinking face. She rapped her fingers on the guitar case on the counter, then lit up and turned to Arisa. “You could tell her through a song!”

“…No.”

Tae’s smile drooped. “Why not?”

 _Because my voice is detestable._ “Because that goes against the whole idea of acting natural,” Arisa said. “And they’re both vocalists, my singing can’t meet their standards,” she snuck in.

With the utmost sincerity, Saaya said, “Arisa I guarantee, right now, Kasumi would adore your singing. Seriously.”

She probably would, and that was part of the problem. Shouldn’t Kasumi have standards?

Arisa bit into her bun and focused on its flavour, shushing her negative voice. As the downpour hit the windows and the temperature dipped low, Arisa wanted nothing more than to take a few buns home and dunk them in Grandma’s warm soup. Anything to forget her worries for a few hours more. To delay, it seemed, was in her nature.

Between bites she said, “Either way, I’m not doing something big. That’ll just stress me out more.”

“You _really_ don’t have to do it if it’s so scary, you know,” Saaya insisted. “I’m sure they’ll understand, everyone has their secrets.”

Try telling that to the fear that had nested inside her for nearly as long as she’d known herself. Morally, Arisa understood that she wasn’t obligated to tell anybody who she used to be, that was a part of her best left behind. There was a reason why the old clothes had been disposed of, why the photos in their frames on Grandma’s wall only depicted Arisa as a teenager. Over half of her life had been rendered a void in her mind, purposefully; it was so much easier not to think about it.

But relationships were something else. The concept was entirely new to her to begin with, she had no frame of reference for how things should go. Not even her late parents could serve as an example; she’d moved in with her grandma long before she could ever have thought to take note of such things. From what she did know, keeping such substantial secrets – if only substantial to her – wasn’t the sign of a glowing relationship. It wasn’t even just who she used to be. She hadn’t magically become indistinguishable from other girls the moment she’d made her realisation – no matter how many stars she may have wished upon. The past was still a part of her like an itchy second skin. It was present in her body, in her anxiety, in the way those insults flung her way years ago still stung. Supposedly the past couldn’t hurt you, but those whispers had never lost their barbs.

“I need to get it out,” Arisa muttered, staring at the hands folded on her lap. While she sat still, the others fidgeted, each looking inside themselves for a way they could help. Not knowing the specifics, the three of them drew blanks. All of them, even Arisa herself, knew that Kasumi would always support her, and were confident in Aya’s kindness, too. That confidence still couldn’t undo an instilled fear, and they knew it.

There was only one thing that could help her, as big of a gamble as it was. The one constant that had brought her this far, helped dilute old worries like milk in tea, and introduced her to a life she’d never thought she could have, was around her right now. Watching her with concerned, kind eyes. Kasumi had dragged her into the group but she’d chosen to stay, and to put the effort in to become a friend worth keeping around. Arisa understood that she could only make progress if she confronted her fears, and acted.

“Actually… can I tell you?”

Three pairs of eyes widened and flickered to one another. “Um, you don’t have to if it’s—”

“I want to,” Arisa said, soldiering on before instinct could act. “I just… I can’t go ahead without any experience. I guess I could practice in the mirror but that wouldn’t really help,” she chuckled dryly. As the night went on and she grew ever more tired, a little bit of her stress had started to fade and some fleeting courage took its place. Harder to keep yourself in a state of anxiety when you were drowsy enough for bed. The warm bread had helped it along, no doubt.

Perhaps when she finally told Kasumi and Aya, she ought to do it later in the day, as well. Assuming this practice didn’t end in disaster.

Rimi and Tae made themselves comfortable in their seats, while Saaya moved over to their side of the counter and brought the four together. “Alright. You can tell us anything,” she said.

It might not have been the wisest decision, betting her bonds on a revelation made when she was too tired to give it as much thought. Everything could come crashing down the moment Arisa opened her mouth, but after so much time spent worrying, she didn’t have it in her to stop herself. She was so, so tired. She just needed to tell someone.

Arisa nodded slowly and took a deep breath. Then she decided against the drama and simply huffed a small sigh, bluntly stating, “I’m trans. I’m sure I don't need to explain what that means. So, go… kick me out of the band or something.” She drew herself in and obstinately refused to look at them.

The seconds dragged by like fat drops of rain on the window and as they did, sweat started to bead on her forehead. In the silence of the room, her ears began to ring, until she felt a tentative hand hovering over her shoulder. Arisa turned to find Tae with her arm outstretched, beckoning her in, and she scanned their faces for any sign of disdain. The three of them wore the same contented smiles as though nothing had changed at all. Gingerly, she leaned in as Tae, Rimi and Saaya wrapped themselves around her. It must have been the smell of chocolate that clung to Rimi wherever she went, because Arisa suddenly, stupidly thought that it was as though they were the pastry and she was the filling in a chocolate cornet. She smirked into Tae’s collar despite herself.

“That’s really not bad,” Tae’s voice rumbled against her cheek. Arisa felt Rimi nod into her.

“Definitely not something you have to tell anyone,” Saaya said. “You don’t owe anybody that. But we’re proud of you, Arisa.”

“We’ll love you just as much, and Kasumi-chan and Aya-senpai will too,” Rimi smiled.

In the back of her mind, Arisa felt the fear she’d held on to, now flailing for purchase. This impromptu act wouldn’t wash it away, it’d likely never leave her entirely, but she felt its grip grow more desperate, like a finger had been pried from the cliff’s edge it clung to. That wretched wall suffered a satisfying crack, just as her hurt heart started to scar.

Arisa hiccupped then scowled at herself. “S-so I’m stuck with you guys?” she tried to groan, but her watery voice wasn’t in it.

“Yep.”

“We could just never let go,” Tae said. “What would you do then?”

Not bothering with any words, Arisa just let out a weary breath, feeling Tae shiver a little as it tickled her. She felt exhausted, ready to fall asleep on top of them. Let her worries be somebody else’s problem for a bit, they can carry her burden, and maybe her body, through the rain and back to bed. Arisa fought the urge and tapped her feet to keep herself awake.

“Is it really this easy?” she finally asked, voice muffled.

“You shouldn’t sell yourself short,” Rimi said. “That must have taken a lot.”

“But if you mean getting us to support you, then yeah,” Saaya added. “I don’t know if you had a bad experience in the past or something, but Kasumi and Aya-senpai aren’t going to have a problem with it. Guaranteed.”

“It’s scary that I’m starting to agree,” Arisa sighed.

For all of her melodrama, Arisa couldn’t deny that the quick confession had lightened her chest. The gnarled knot that had sat there for so long seemed to loosen, just a little, and that proof of progress was all that she needed. A few errant shivers still found their way through her, either leftover adrenaline making its way out or the petty work of her inner-critic, angry at being cheated out of a disaster. Her friends held her through it all, until she was left tired, tear-stained and warmer than before.

“Sorry again for keeping you so late,” she mumbled. “Should we get going?”

“Probably best, I don’t want your folks worrying,” Saaya said. Outside of the bakery, the rain was still lashing down. It thundered against the glass like percussion, making the room feel more comfortable by comparison and making Arisa crave her warm bed.

Rimi dug around in her bag. “Did you bring umbrellas?”

Arisa nodded and took out her own. Tae hoisted her guitar case onto her back. “I can just run,” she stated.

“You’ll slip and hurt yourself,” Saaya frowned. “Take mine,” she said, handing it over insistently.

Tae opened it indoors and held it to cover her case more than herself. “I’ll pay you back someday,” she promised.

Three hugs were customary after the night’s events. Arisa let the girls do as they pleased, she didn’t have it in her to stammer and turn them down. The rain would soon cool her rosy face as the wind didn’t care for her umbrella. At least getting wet would disguise the streaks already on her cheeks.

Not much went through Arisa’s head as she trekked home through the downpour. She’d made leagues of progress simply by cutting off her overthinking and blurting out her secret, and after such a quietly eventful evening, she didn’t feel like getting lost in her thoughts. Before long she found herself back at home, Grandma waiting on the porch with a towel for her hair. She let herself get patted dry, almost drifting off a few times.

“I told them,” Arisa murmured.

Grandma undid her pigtails for her. “Hm?”

“I told them I’m trans.”

The patting softened slightly, tender as though she were made of glass. Arisa almost felt like a child again. “Oh, your girlfriends?”

“N-no, not them. Aya-senpai isn’t even my girlfriend. I told the others.”

“And they still love you?” Grandma asked, knowing the answer.

Arisa sagged. “I do wish you people wouldn’t throw that word around. Yes, they do.”

The old woman hummed contentedly. “Of course. Things are different now.”

When had her grandma ever been wrong? Hearing those certain words, the knot loosed slightly more. Arisa could breathe more deeply of the crisp air. Still, more work remained; a pair of obstacles she wanted less to overcome, more to spend her time with.

“I really hope you’re right, Grandma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope Sayo and Popipa were reasonably in-character! Feedback is super appreciated.
> 
> In Chapter 5, Arisa finds solace from an unlikely source.


	5. Stellar Lights

Arisa was back a few days later to tell of her progress, and a few more days after _that_ , she was surrounded by cheering lights.

The texts from Aya had grown further apart as her practice had become more gruelling. Not beholden to an agency, Poppin’Party could decide when they felt like performing. Pastel✽Palettes had no such luxury. It was something of a landmark live, coinciding with the release of some hotly-anticipated new merchandise. Arisa had to wonder whether Aya and the others received royalties for the sales of their merch. If so, and with her own empty purse in mind, maybe belonging to an agency didn’t sound so bad after all.

While Kasumi had kept her busy, Aya's sparse replies had given Arisa more time to spend in her own head. It sucked, that place sucked, she’d wasted enough time there already. Being with Aya had consistently helped reassure her that her affection was truly returned, that the pessimistic fantasies playing on loop in her mind had little to no basis in reality. Losing that was a setback she could do without.

When approaching Sayo again in the student council room and letting her know what she’d done, Arisa had let slip that she missed spending time with Aya. Nevermind the fact that she’d only just _started_ spending time with her recently, and that said time mostly took the form of texting. Arisa could see how fans became so easily enthralled by their favourite idols, even if she didn’t count herself among those obsessive, yelling types.

It had started innocuously enough. “I told my bandmates the other day,” she told Sayo, watching her pen strokes pause. “Just for practice.”

“They took it well, I’m assuming?” Sayo asked.

Arisa nodded into her hand, squished against her cheek. “Made me feel dumb for getting so worked up.”

“At least it was positive.” Sayo returned to her forms, writing a little slower. “Toyama-san wasn’t included in those bandmates?”

“…Not yet. That was just practice.”

“Well, progress is progress. You did more than I’d expected.”

Arisa wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not. “Thank you…? Uh, have you told Roselia?”

Her question gave Sayo pause. A hint of uncertainty showed on her face, betraying some buried doubt of her own. A moment later, she resumed and didn’t think further on it. Neither of them owed anybody that information. “No, only Imai-san. It’s irrelevant to my sound.”

“Fair enough,” Arisa said. “I want to tell Kasumi and Aya-senpai soon but it’s hard getting them together lately. Pastel✽Palettes are always busy.”

“I did wonder why things have been quieter at home. Not that Hina requires so much practice,” Sayo muttered.

“Yeah. I don’t just want to tell them over the phone, though.” Arisa had wondered if letting Aya know via text would actually feel more natural, given that so much of their talking had already taken place there. Telling her in person might lend the topic some bombast that she didn’t want it to have, but neither did she want to just type it out. If somehow Aya and Kasumi were going to react badly, Arisa wanted to see that on their faces, not risk them covering up disdain with carefully worded messages.

“Hmm…” Sayo stopped and looked up at her thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t happen to have tickets to their performance?”

Arisa grimaced. “No, they sell out in minutes. And I’m still kind of broke after the first date.”

“I see. In that case, I might be of some help.” Sayo’s words made Arisa perk up a bit. “Hina insists that I attend their lives where possible, going so far as to leave tickets around for me to find,” she explained. “I’ve seen three around the house just this week; she must be costing that agency a small fortune. If you’d like, you could take two off my hands.”

The sudden glow of interest in Arisa’s eyes had Sayo feeling diffident. Handing out freebies from the good of her heart was outside of her usual wheelhouse, but the tickets would just go to waste, otherwise. Sayo wasn’t about to go auctioning them for fast food funds, as tempting as it may have been.

“You’d—are you sure?” Arisa exclaimed. Sayo held a finger over her lips and Arisa shrunk back in her seat. “R-right. Do you mean it, though?”

“Hazawa-san is busy that day and Roselia have no particular interest in idols. The other tickets would only gather dust.”

“O-oh, right. Um, do you want _some_ money, or something?” Arisa reached for the bag beneath her seat. “There’s not much but maybe—"

Sayo held up a hand to stop her. “I don’t need the money. Just make good use of them.” At Arisa’s curious look, she continued, “I don’t expect you to come out at the concert or something. In fact, I’d advise you don’t. But it is a way to spend more time with them, and that might be all you need.”

“Makes sense…" Arisa mumbled. "Hazawa-san once mentioned that you showed up to a lot of their lives before you two got together." Sharing the knowledge made her a little red, which was nothing compared to Sayo.

“D-did she now? Interesting.” Resisting the urge to take a handkerchief to her forehead, Sayo cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’ll bring the tickets tomorrow. Assuming they’re still where Hina left them.”

The pressure to make sure those tickets wouldn’t go to waste toyed with Arisa’s nerves. They weren’t entirely free, carrying the implicit expectation that she’d finally confront her problems, and she knew she’d feel guilty if she then went on to delay even longer. Ideally, after the progress she’d made, she wouldn’t have to put it off anymore, but the soft deadline still roused some anxiety.

“T-thanks, I’ll… do my best,” she said.

“Don’t mention it,” Sayo dismissed. “We’ve spent enough time on the topic as of late. I’d like to get back to the normal workflow.” A small ulterior motive, but it was of course there, nonetheless.

Explaining to Kasumi how she’d gotten hold of the tickets proved to be the real challenge. Arisa had learned in recent weeks that lying was not the way to go. Not because it was wrong, she had few qualms with fibbing as long as it wouldn’t hurt, but because Kasumi would see right through her. Instead, she simply said that Sayo had treated them both in order to get rid of spare tickets. Kasumi didn’t need to know the ins and outs of it, those details would hopefully come later. Making it sound believable and not letting stray details slip had been nerve-racking, but Kasumi took her at her word.

Now, they were bathed in the glow of myriad coloured lights. Under Arisa’s instructions they’d arrived early enough to find a spot not far from the stage, but the super-fans around, decked in their cheaply-made outfits made exorbitantly expensive by tiny six-petalled flower symbols, had come with the same idea. Behind them stretched a void dotted with only a handful of more reserved fans, their light sticks standing out as bright pinpricks in the dark. The space would soon fill to bursting and turn the entire venue into a wash of colours, but for now, the light was concentrated at the front. Arisa preferred to play than to watch, so she hadn’t been to an awful many live shows before, making the way Kasumi’s face lit up in clashing colours a somewhat new and enchanting sight.

“You’ve got your light stick, right?” Kasumi asked, raising her voice over the crowd. In one hand she held Arisa’s own to stop them from getting split, while the other raised a rod shining bright pink. The performance hadn’t even begun yet; her arm would get tired if she held it up for so long.

“I told you, I’m broke,” Arisa replied. “Where did you get the money for one?”

“I’ve had mine for ages ‘cause I’m a true fan,” Kasumi said smugly.

Arisa scoffed but felt a twinge of guilt. Next to Kasumi, it might have looked like she wasn’t putting in the effort. Especially considering she hadn’t even paid for the tickets, not that Aya knew. It wasn’t as though Arisa could have afforded one of the Pastel✽Palettes branded sticks she saw those around her holding, but perhaps she could have gotten a cheap glowstick or something. It would likely have been indistinguishable amidst the blinding sea.

Noticing her knitted brow, Kasumi nudged her and smiled. “We could always share,” she said, handing her the light stick. It was warm to the touch and a little dazzling to look at. She gave it a slow, experimental wave like she was wiping a window, her eyes fixed on the lazy pink blur.

“You must’ve liked her for a while if you’ve had this for so long,” Arisa commented. The stick bore the band’s logo across its hilt and was capped off with a six-petaled flower at the base. A small switch cycled the light between five colours, but the two of them would be keeping it pink.

Kasumi held up her hands as though Arisa were questioning her fidelity. “Aya-chan just gave one to all the vocalists when we met up one time!” she explained. Certainly one way of self-promotion. “She’d probably get one for you if you asked.”

“That’d mean admitting I don’t have one yet…” Arisa muttered, inaudible over the sound of the crowd. Kasumi leaned in so she could repeat herself, but instead Arisa found herself asking with as calm a voice as she could muster, “Um, has she talked about me at all? When you’ve been together?”

“Hm? I don’t think so…”

Arisa’s face fell a little and Kasumi rushed to clarify. “I mean! We haven’t all gotten together to plan any events in a while,” she said. “The last one was a while ago. She does text me about you now, though.”

“R-really?” Arisa’s heartbeat quickened before she even knew what had been said. Good or bad, affection or judgement, just knowing she’d been on Aya’s mind made her jittery. “Uh, what—what does she say?”

“Hmm…” Kasumi regarded her closely before deciding on a vague, “Good things.” She grinned in teasing before Arisa had even settled into her scowl. “If you want the details you should ask her, she’s cute when she’s red.”

“Pest,” Arisa grumbled. At least now she had an opportunity to make Aya blush, though she’d have liked to get there herself. Either way, she found herself dying to know more, but for what must have been the very first time, Kasumi’s mouth was kept shut.

For a moment, anyway. “Do you two talk about me?”

“You? I guess we do,” Arisa replied. “Mostly about how much you cost my grandma in groceries.” She smirked at Kasumi’s pout and added, more sincerely, “And about how good your vocals have gotten. She seems to like singing your praises.”

“Really?”

“I mean, yeah, you’re a vocalist. Don’t be so surprised.”

“She does compliment me on my singing sometimes, but knowing she talks to other people about it… Wow…” Kasumi looked up at the empty stage with wonder in her eyes, and Arisa was reminded of the affection that those two shared. It was easy to focus only on her own fondness rather than what the others had between them, given that their date had been more about Arisa and Aya getting to know each other. Arisa saw the light in Kasumi’s eyes and began to feel warm at the prospect of seeing those she… liked, also liking each other.

But she also felt an opportunity. “Alright, I told you something,” she said, drawing Kasumi’s attention back. “You have to tell me something she said.”

Kasumi didn’t seem too caught out, raising her eyebrows and racking her brain. “Lemme think… Oh! She said you look like you’d be really nice to hug. I told her she was right.”

And Arisa instantly regretted asking. She could feel the heat climbing up her face and prayed that the light stick’s pink glow might hide her own. “G-good to know,” she stammered. Kasumi giggled and squeezed her hand.

The venue had filled in the time they’d been talking. Glancing over her shoulder, Arisa was met with a vast expanse of colourful lights. She silently judged the crowd for not having enough pink, but at least that might help draw Aya’s attention her way. Kasumi had convinced her not to tell Aya ahead of time that they’d be attending, hoping to surprise her when she saw them in the crowd. _If_ she saw them, Arisa had reminded her. The venue could fit countless faces, likely rendered indistinct in the glow, so Aya could easily miss them. Her realism went ignored as Kasumi hyped up the surprise.

Movement in the crowd drew her attention, as a few people shuffled aside amid squeaks of “Excuse me!” and “Thank you~!” Something colourful bobbed through the throng and soon a bright head of hair made it to the front. The girl underneath looked no worse for wear after wading her way through, wearing an excited smile. Arisa thought she looked familiar, and her suspicious were confirmed when Kasumi noticed and greeted, “Pareo-chan!”

Pareo turned to the voice and smiled brighter. “Oh, Poppin’Party!” She shuffled closer with a light stick held up and a large sheet of card tucked under her arm.

“Just two of them today,” Arisa said. Hearing the girl’s name helped refresh her memory. “Aren’t you the girl who said she was gonna crush us? And Roselia?”

“Oh no, that was Chu²-sama! Pareo wouldn’t hurt a fly!” Pareo said unconvincingly. From what little Arisa knew of her, she’d do just about anything that scrawny DJ asked. Though admittedly, looking at her appearance, the thought of her so much as saying a bad word seemed far-fetched.

“That’s in the past anyway! Now, we’re all here for a common purpose,” Kasumi said sagely. Somehow, Arisa doubted that Pareo was also here out of romantic interest, the girl looked years younger than Aya. She certainly hoped that wasn’t the case, anyway.

Pareo helpfully finished, “Yes! To cheer on Pastel✽Palettes!”, bringing some relief.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get here early, being a super-fan or whatever,” Arisa said.

“I did!” Pareo insisted, gripping her light stick tight. “Pareo got right up to the front but then more people arrived, and they wanted to be at the front – and who wouldn’t? – so I got shuffled further back. I made it back here, though!”

It was hard not to feel at least a little sorry for her. With her unwaveringly sweet demeanour, Pareo would easily get swept away in the tide of more cutthroat fans. That she’d still squeezed her way back spoke to her dedication. Admittedly, with her impressive height and those platform shoes, she was perhaps better equipped than most for watching from further back. But that would never do.

As though they’d been waiting for their most colourful fan, Pastel✽Palettes soon took to the stage amid cheers and waving lights. Arisa saw Hina scan the room and quickly perk up; no doubt she’d spotted her sister among the crowd. Maya and Eve kept glancing at each other like a conversation had been cut short. Chisato wore a demure smile in the face of the audience’s cheering.

The thrill of the show never quite grew old, Arisa knew as much from experience, and she could see that excitement in Aya’s eyes as she looked out upon the sea of stars. “Everyone! We’re Pastel✽Palettes,” Aya greeted, “and we’ve got a super special show for you tonight!”

“That’s right,” Chisato continued. “Right as our performance concludes, the new Pastel✽Palettes Nesoberi dolls will be available for purchase.” She enunciated with great care, as though the entire concert were an advertisement and the merchandise took centre stage. Pareo squealed and wiggled in what little room she had; Arisa could almost hear the coins jangling around in her purse.

Hina insisted, “Get mine! Mine’s the cutest,” making Aya turn and pout.

“Hina-chan, that’s not fair! They’re _all_ equally cute.”

Arisa watched their charade with half-lidded eyes. She’d sat through enough ads to know a sales ploy when she saw one, and as much as she admired Aya and her bandmates by extension, their skit was as transparent as they came. Aya’s stilted delivery didn’t help her case, it sounded like she was reading from a script. Not that it mattered. Much of the crowd would still be buying all five.

“You’re the cutest though, Aya-chan!” Pareo whisper-shouted. Kasumi nodded beside her and Arisa had to agree, too.

“But for now, let’s get started with _Kyu~mai_ _＊flower_!”

Excited cries rang out through the crowd and the idols adjusted their instruments one final time, then the song burst out from the stage. Arisa wasn’t overly familiar with their music, generally preferring to listen to her own band’s songs so as to hear Kasumi’s voice and pick out any mistakes she herself might have made. With how things had changed, however, she’d begun to appreciate Pastel✽Palettes’ saccharine songs, both for Aya’s vocals and the sugary feelings they stirred. Aya had been right about the comfort she spoke of being a two-way deal; though being surrounded by a crowd should have made Arisa anxious, the music seemed to shoo any negative feelings away. She suddenly found herself with half a mind to just blast _Shuwarin_ _☆Drea~min_ when she finally came out. The thought made her chuckle and Kasumi turned to her with a bemused smile.

“Having fun?” she asked.

“Uh! Yeah, they’re… they’re good,” Arisa replied. “Do you want the light for a bit?”

“Sure!”

She handed over the light stick and shook some of the strain from her wrist, then turned to find Pareo tilting her head. “Do you not have a light stick each?” she asked. Her own branded stick, seemingly a limited-edition variant judging by its more detailed design, was still held high.

“We’re just sharing. They’re kind of expensive,” Arisa said.

“Oh! In that case,” Pareo lowered her arm and rooted through her glossy purse, poking out her tongue in concentration. After a moment, she pulled out a second, identical light stick. “You can borrow mine!”

For a moment Arisa wondered how Pareo could justify buying two of those things, then realised that it was likely thanks to that wealthy producer, and that most questions about Pareo could be answered in this way. “Oh… Thanks, um. Why do you have a spare?”

“Pareo always brings two, but this time I need one hand for my sign!”

Arisa peered at the sign as it was presented proudly before her. In bright, rainbow letters it read, ‘YOUR MUSIC SAVED ME!!’, surrounded by doodles of the five idols. Charming in its own way.

“Ooh, is that the special limited-edition stick?” Kasumi asked, leaning in.

“Looks like it,” Arisa said. Seeing how Kasumi’s eyes sparkled, she seized an opportunity. “Who’s the true fan now?” she smirked.

 _Kyu~mai_ _＊flower_ drew to a close and the audience cheered, Kasumi and Pareo among them. Arisa politely applauded, careful not to smack the light stick, but kept herself quiet. Pareo was waving her sign around eagerly and eventually drew Aya’s attention as the final notes faded out. She read it and smiled shyly with a hand over her heart, and if it were anybody else, Arisa would have assumed they were just being performative. Knowing Aya, she was genuinely touched.

Her gaze drifted aside and finally landed on Arisa and Kasumi, making her eyebrows shoot up and her face grow warm. Quickly she fixed her expression back into something more professional. It was an unenviable position to be in, needing to be careful not to let anything gossip-worthy show on her face. Arisa did her best to help, just giving her a small smile and taking Kasumi’s hand before she could wave.

“You got your surprise, don’t draw too much attention now,” she muttered.

“Aww, okay,” Kasumi grinned.

For a moment, Arisa saw Chisato’s eyes flicker between her and Aya. Sensibly, she stepped forward and took over for a moment while Aya caught her senses. “We hope you’re enjoying yourselves so far,” she said. The audience roared their confirmation. “Next up is something you’ve all shown to us through your continued support. _Power of Love_."

A tear slid down Pareo’s face at the plastic sentimentality and she wiped at her eyes with slender fingers. As the first notes were played, Kasumi hummed and asked her, “I don’t think I’ve heard this one, do you know when the call’s gonna be?”

“H-huh? Oh! Pareo can give you a signal when it’s time!”

“’Call’?” Arisa echoed. “What do you mean?”

Pareo seemed torn between wanting to explain and to drink in the music. Kasumi stepped in for her. “It’s when you cheer them on! You go like…” She cupped her hands around her mouth for a moment and then thought better of it. “Actually, I’ll just show you when it’s time. But Aya-chan loves them!”

“She does, huh?” Arisa wasn’t convinced. If people in the audience started yelling in the middle of a Poppin’Party performance, she’d give them the most disdainful look she could muster without losing focus. Surely it would be especially irritating for a vocalist, having their lyrics drowned out.

Her doubt must have shown on her face. “It’s normal!” Kasumi insisted. “A lot of idol shows have them, you just don’t get them much with regular bands. It’s like—hm?”

Pareo was waggling her light stick in the air to get their attention. As the chorus kicked in, she shook it once, twice, thrice, mouthing, ‘three, two, one!’ On ‘one’, Kasumi lit up and turned back to the stage. She held up her light stick and exclaimed along with Pareo, “ _Sparkling Aya-chan!!_ ”

The call was shared by much of the crowd, save for a few first-timers like Arisa who startled in confusion. Aya smiled ever brighter and sang with a shining passion. Her bandmates similarly played with greater zeal, Maya’s drumsticks beating with a will of their own and Eve’s fingers dancing across her keyboard. A call for one was a call for all – even Chisato’s small smile grew more eager.

Arisa imagined herself on the stage, faced with a cheer meant just for her. It was a hazy image at best, too unrealistic to be properly defined. She preferred to hang back and support the others, it was Kasumi who should hear the audience scream her name. That was a thought she could get behind. The girl who gave so much deserved such raucous praise.

Kasumi’s voice drew her back. “Arisa! You have to do the call!”

“Whuh?” Arisa replied eloquently. “I don’t _have_ to. It’s not a rule… Is it?”

“Basically! You’ve gotta join in, that’s the best part. Just do what we do!”

How yelling in such an undignified fashion was the best part of a concert, Arisa didn’t know. If she wanted to make her voice heard, and she rarely did, she’d be up on stage herself, belting out lyrics about stars and friendship. A voice like hers was best kept muted, used as it was needed and little more. How humiliating it would be to raise her voice for hundreds to hear. With how it differed from those of other girls, she may as well scream her secret into a megaphone.

Supposedly, joining the call would help support Aya, and that in itself was a worthwhile cause. A small, competitive part of her didn’t want to be outdone by Kasumi’s eagerness, but surely there was another way. Perhaps she should’ve made a gaudy sign like Pareo. That would arguably draw even more attention, but at least it wouldn’t be of the negative sort.

The music may have soothed her earlier anxiety but it fell upon deaf ears now. Arisa felt herself slipping into old habits, refusing to entertain any reassuring thoughts, the song itself turning to white noise as she gnawed nervously on her lip. Kasumi was lost to the music, waggling her light stick and trying to predict the lyrics so that she could mouth along. Arisa almost wanted to tug on her sleeve and seek the support she knew she would give, but support for what? An undefined and unexplained anxiety that Kasumi didn’t understand? She wasn’t prepared to tell her yet, not here, not now. However, Arisa soon felt a different pair of eyes upon her, and turned to meet Pareo’s gaze.

Arisa quickly looked away but turned back seconds later at the sound of tearing card. Pareo held a pen in one hand and in the other, a chunk taken from the corner of her sign. Quickly she scribbled in bright blue marker, then held out the card to Arisa, staring her down with kind eyes. Arisa met her with a puzzled look but accepted the scrap and read,

_‘Nobody will notice over the sound of the crowd! You’re safe and I’m here supporting you.’_

She blinked up at Pareo who smiled softly back at her. ‘It’s coming up,’ she mouthed, and on cue, the music faded back into Arisa’s attention. Backed by her bandmates, Aya led them into the chorus. Pareo placed a hand over her chest like a vocalist warming up, and Arisa found herself copying the motion. Stage lights shone overhead and the music’s rising intensity drew something up from Arisa’s chest. She turned to the stage, raised her light stick slowly, glanced back to see Pareo shake her own once, twice, thrice with that encouraging smile, and cheered with the crowd, “ _S-sparkling Aya-chan!!_ ”

Immediately, Kasumi’s head whipped around to her and Arisa didn’t have the chance to let her blood run cold before Kasumi split into a smile. Pareo was right, Arisa hardly heard her own voice among the cacophony. Nobody was paying special attention to her and there was little chance of anybody else noticing. At least, so she thought, but a sound from the stage proved otherwise.

“Alrighth—!" Aya’s eyes went wide as she bit her tongue, face reddening rapidly. Her eyes snapped to Arisa, who stared back with the same look on her face. Even at her most pessimistic, Arisa couldn’t convince herself that Aya’s reaction was one of discomfort. No, she knew the feeling of heat rushing to her face all too well, and with Kasumi so often the culprit, she could also guess its cause. Seeing Aya’s rosy expression, that overthought fear of judgement trickled away like stardust through her fingers.

Survival instincts kicking in, Aya mouthed the lyrics for a moment before her voice returned, and it was a miracle that she’d stumbled on a line sung by the others, too. The realisation that her cheer had such a flustering effect gave Arisa the confidence to grin up at the stage, toothy and teasing and not making Aya’s job any easier. To the left, Arisa thought she saw Chisato’s eye twitch at the mistake, but it had to be a trick of the light, she’d never let her mask slip on stage. To the right, Hina was openly grinning, delighting in her bandmate’s stumble.

It would be fair to say that the other four idols carried Aya through the rest of the song. She sang with as much skill and energy as she could muster, but warbled here and there and kept stealing glances at Arisa. Where the cheers of the surrounding crowd had been a homogeneous wave, Arisa’s voice cut through clearly and unexpectedly. Aya had scarcely heard her shout with such earnest passion; her raised voice had seemed for so long to be reserved for backing vocals or telling Kasumi off. To hear Arisa call her name so fervently… she could hardly be blamed for her fluster.

(Detractors on message boards would find a way, of course, but that didn’t matter in the moment.)

By the time that the concert had drawn to a close, most of the pink had left Aya’s face. She stepped forward to thank the audience for attending before Chisato could take over again – anything to regain some lost pride – and delivered the canned lines about merchandise that didn’t really suit her. As the band was leaving the stage, she glanced again at Arisa and some pink returned, her lips quirking up shyly. The crowd began to disperse and Kasumi turned to Arisa in excitement.

“Did you see how she was looking at you?” she exclaimed.

Arisa winced. “Don’t go shouting about it. I’m hoping not many people noticed.”

“It’ll be fine! Chisato-senpai can pull some strings and make everyone forget it happened,” Kasumi said confidently. The image she created was somewhat terrifying, so Arisa tried not to think about it.

“Sure… Well, as long as you had fun.”

“Yep! Did you?”

“It was nice, I guess. They did pretty well,” Arisa said. “I’ll have to thank Sayo-senpai again for the tickets.”

“Me too!” Kasumi said. An idea struck. “Hey, do you think they’d let us visit Aya-chan backstage?”

Arisa balked. “What? They don’t—they don’t even know that we’re… involved with her. Why would they let us through?”

Kasumi shrugged. “Worth a try! Are you coming?”

“Uh, I’ll stay here. Go ahead if you must, but don’t cause trouble.”

“I’d never!” Kasumi said innocently. She then gave a sweet smile. “You won’t get lost while I’m gone?”

“Hmf. You’re projecting,” Arisa projected.

With a skip to her step, Kasumi was off to the far corner of the venue. Arisa watched her go with a worried brow and a bemused smile, brushing her thumb along the hilt of the limited-edition light stick. After a moment, she realised what she was doing, and stared at it. She hadn’t… where was Pareo? She hoped she hadn’t just stolen it.

“Arisa-san?”

Arisa startled, turned, and found herself relieved. Pareo gave her a little wave as she approached. They were the only two left in the concert hall, the rest of the audience having filtered out to pick up the new merch. The lights overhead had turned back on in the absence of a few hundred light sticks and while Arisa squinted slightly as her vision re-adjusted, Pareo looked like she was used to it.

“Ah, Pareo. Um, this,” Arisa held out the light stick and mumbled, “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

“Oh, of course! You can borrow it again next time if you don’t manage to find one.” Pareo stuck the light stick back in her bag, next to its twin and the carefully folded sign. “It feels better using the special ones rather than a regular light stick, doesn’t it?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t know, I don’t own any. I think that might just be your brain trying to justify spending so much, though,” Arisa said. “But they _are_ nice.”

The sign poking out of Pareo’s bag with its neatly torn corner reminded Arisa, “Thanks for… um, back there, by the way.”

Pareo perked up and dove her hand back inside the bag, saying, “Oh right, that’s what I wanted to ask you about!” A statement that probably should have stirred some anxiety in Arisa’s stomach, yet knowing who was saying it, she strangely felt no fear. “Pareo kind of made an assumption and I’m guessing I was right, but just in case, um…” Pareo took a small, heart-shaped pin from her bag, the metal slightly chipped at the edges, weathered and well-loved. Arisa easily recognized its stripy design. “Is this—was Pareo right?”

Arisa breathed out, staring at the pastel pin that so deftly complimented Pareo's appearance. “Y-yeah, you got me. So… you know what it’s like?” she asked quietly.

Pareo nodded, toying with the pin. Her nails painted in the same pale colours, it seemed an extension of her – a second heart, expressing something held by the one in her chest. “I think so,” she said. “I mean, not necessarily the voice thing… Chu²-sama helped support me before my voice really began to change, so I never had much trouble with it.” Her apologetic tone made Arisa try to keep her jealousy from showing. She did an admirable job, with only a slight slump of the shoulders. “But I know how hard things can be. Does Kasumi-san know?”

“I’m working on it,” Arisa said with a tired little smile. “She’ll know soon, as long as I don’t chicken out. But right now, no.”

“Oh… In that case, do you have the note Pareo gave to you?”

While Arisa had held the light stick in one hand, the other had been shoved inside her pocket, still holding on to the card. She hadn’t even noticed how she clung to that scrap of support but the realisation left her a bit embarrassed. “Uh, y-yeah,” she stuttered, taking it out. Pareo held out her hand expectantly and Arisa, though confused, handed it over.

With a quick rip, Pareo tore the scrap neatly in two, pocketing one half and returning the other. Arisa found the message shortened to a more general, _‘You’re safe and I’m here supporting you.’_

“It’s nice to have a reminder that you’re not alone,” Pareo explained, watching Arisa read the message like a mantra. “If you’re ever having worries or things are going wrong, just remember that Pareo’s got your back! And a lot of other people do, too.”

Not too long ago, Arisa would have dismissed such a notion. The only ones who knew of her situation were her grandma and her middle school bullies; where exactly were these other, supportive people? But now her world was expanding, day after day. When she’d begun to think her development had grown stagnant, her unlikely new life with the band becoming the norm, surprises rose up in every direction. In a matter of days, she’d learned that two other girls – and two keyboardists at that, it was as though they orbited one another – shared in her experiences, and had found the comfort she craved. With the hope brought on by their successes, another thorny vine that made up the knot grew feeble and loosened its hold.

“I-I… I’ll hold on to it,” she said weakly, folding the note with care. Pareo beamed back at her, brighter than her overpriced light stick. It was somewhat awkward, laying her feelings bare and being met with such support, while standing in the middle of a huge, empty hall. Arisa decided she’d allow herself some respite, there was such a thing as too much vulnerability.

She motioned for Pareo to follow and started walking to the venue’s doors. Kasumi was likely still bothering the staff, but it’d be nicer to wait somewhere less overwhelmingly empty. Taking in Pareo’s colourful outfit, Arisa noted, “You know, I hardly think you needed a pin to explain yourself.”

Pareo kept the smile but tilted her head.

“I mean just, you’re like a trans flag gijinka or something,” Arisa explained. “I don’t know if that’s by design but… yeah.”

“Oh, it’s more of a happy accident!” Pareo said brightly. “Chu²-sama helped me pick out some clothes that would suit the real me. And it turns out the real me is full of pinks and blues!”

Arisa chuckled. “Fair enough. I don’t really know how I didn’t realise at a glance, to be honest. Like, with the hair and everything, you’re just missing the white.”

“Pareo did think about adding a white stripe, but that might have been too obvious,” Pareo said, as though she wasn’t way past that point already. When the two of them reached the exit, she seemed surprisingly less interested in the booths of merchandise, instead sticking with Arisa.

“Although,” she continued, “maybe when I’m a grandma I’ll have some white hair and that’ll complete the flag!”

Leaning against the wall and turning away from the crowd, Arisa raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re gonna keep dyeing your hair when you’re like, sixty?” she asked dubiously. She could hardly picture an old lady in Pareo’s getup, but then she couldn’t really imagine Pareo without it, either.

“Of course!” Pareo said assuredly. “So long as Chu²-sama doesn’t mind. But she told me I shouldn’t care about what other people think of me. So I’m going to be who I want for as long as I want.”

“…Well, as long as you’re happy,” Arisa relented. Hearing Pareo’s perhaps naïve self-confidence, an almost-familiar feeling made itself known in Arisa’s gut, and she wrapped an arm around herself. Tentatively, she asked, “Um, you talk about that Chu² girl a lot, what exactly… what did she do that’s so great?”

Pareo lit up like a sunrise and launched into a story she must have told a thousand times, sounding like she’d swallowed a script. Pausing only for the odd quick breath, she rambled for minutes while Arisa fought to keep up.

She spoke of distant parents, reverent classmates, uncomfortable uniforms and too-dark hair. Lamented lacking passion, false expectations, and a name that fit as well as a glove the size of a thimble. All the while, she seemed surrounded by a black, tightening tunnel with no end in sight, until…

A beaming light! Shining idols! Lifesaving songs looping endlessly in her head, slowly gaining the courage to dust off her keyboard, recreating those melodies and uploading them to the internet while expecting to stay unseen, but then—

Tea-rose hair! Eager blue eyes! A loud, persistent saviour in cat ears – Arisa gave rapt attention – and the insistence that she could be more than what she was. Explosions of colour and sound and… beef jerky? A wealth of new friends and experiences and—

Pareo finally stopped when her lungs couldn’t keep up. She took water from her bag and downed half the bottle, then turned to Arisa who found it all making sense.

She really, really was not alone. A handful of details notwithstanding (her classmates had been far from reverent, to say the least), Arisa almost felt like she’d just had her own story recounted. She felt a little vulnerable, as though she’d been peered into, but found comfort in the idea that she could find a happy ending. Pareo had dealt with so much of the same and come out the other end as the girl she was today, and she was only… only…?

“Um, Pareo, weird question, but… how old are you again?”

Pareo put down the bottle and flashed both hands, then struck a pose with a three-fingered peace sign. “I’m thirteen!” she announced. Arisa nodded her acknowledgment minutely.

Thirteen had been an… uncomfortable age. But then it could hardly be considered a year of its own. Holed away in her room, in a stasis punctuated only by the purchases and deaths of several bonsai, thirteen, fourteen and a chunk of fifteen had been all but interchangeable. A blur of laptop screens and perfect grades remembered without any fondness, until Kasumi came along.

So much of Pareo’s story, Arisa felt she could grab at and take and hoard as her own. A light in the dark, introducing her to a new world and reigniting an old passion. A persistent attitude bordering on the invasive, not letting up until she could smile again. Those damned cat ears, one pair made of plastic, the other defying physics and swearing it was a star.

Knowing that Pareo had met her angel at thirteen and not had to spend so long alone, Arisa found herself wishing, not for the first time, that Kasumi had barged into her life just a few years sooner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more I began thinking about Arisa and Pareo, the more parallels I started to see: both of them keyboardists, in pigtails no less, who were 'saved' by boisterous girls in cat ears and introduced to a new life with new friends. Except that while Pareo met Chu² at a younger age, Arisa was alone for years before meeting Kasumi.
> 
> In Chapter 6, Arisa remembers how she got here.
> 
> (Content warning for mentions of transphobic bullying and dysphoria in the next chapter.)


	6. Endless Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for descriptions of transphobic bullying and dysphoria.

_To be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the face of such enormous change, was to clasp your hands and beg to be knocked down. Arisa now knew that well._

_Naivety was just one of the things she wasn’t allowed to have. She’d lit up like a firework when presented with her gift, finally able to indulge in what she’d been denied. Her hair done up as gracefully as Grandma’s arthritic hands could manage, and the clothes she had no love for swapped out for something sparkly, she’d paraded around her room feeling weightless as space. To anybody who’d listen, that being a handful of people on a message board, she had sung her excitement to scattered comments of support._

_They must have known. At least those a little older, more experienced in getting… reactions. They were only trying not to get her hopes up; she managed that all on her own._

_Middle-schoolers were unfiltered. Of course, she was among them. Couldn’t keep that excitement bottled up, eager to share it, not knowing the potential cost. Some base instinct of self-preservation kept her authentic self at home, for a time. Away from judgement, she could indulge her euphoria, and even the old ladies who visited the shop were supportive, if a little confused. Her eventual mistake was in bringing that self outside of the house. Where Grandma had complimented how natural she looked, unshackled and dressed in what suited her best, the girls at school didn’t bother hiding their whispers behind their hands._

_At first, Arisa hadn’t really understood. Admittedly, she didn’t know a lot about this sort of thing. Nobody had taught her how to dress or to act – at least not without being under the wrong impression. But she’d taken note subconsciously of what other girls liked to wear. It was all so wonderfully different, she’d thought, and she was desperate to move away from what she’d known before._

_But her peers were remarkably knowledgeable for their age, when it came to which words would cut deepest. Most hardly knew what being trans even was – Arisa herself had needed the internet as a guide – and yet somehow they knew how best to hurt her. The new clothes she adored were unfit for her frame, they’d said, sniping at her with specifics on how her body didn’t match her dreams. Frilly sleeves ending in too-big hands, shoulders stretching the fabric of her dress, a sharpness to her features where they should have been soft. On and on, dissecting her, making sure she knew that she was too late to be herself, with a desperation born from the fear of the unknown._

_Arisa had returned home to find her reflection distorted. The shape in the mirror wore her new clothes as well as a pond wore flame. Every little ‘fault’ stood out clearly amid a hazy visage, until they were all that she could focus on. She squeezed at her shoulders but they didn’t want to shrink; she poked and prodded her face like that would change anything. Let her turn to clay and reshape into an ordinary girl, marked with fingerprints and indentations from painted nails to remind her of the effort she’d made. The mirror keenly told her that such a wish was stupid, and even Grandma’s love couldn’t make it come true._

_Still, what excitement remained was fuel for her flickering fire. Even after being so thoroughly brought low, she kept at it while her joy lasted, enduring as best she could. Eventually, the ridicule changed the way a predator adapted to evolving prey. The problem was no longer just her body, something she couldn’t yet change, her mindset was something to mock. The clothes she loved were childishly outdated, ridiculous in their ribbons and frills. She was apparently stuck in years past, clinging to things she should have grown out of. But she’d never had the chance to know them before, she had lagged behind other girls and was left to pick up what they’d discarded. From the whispers that had grown loud enough to no longer be called such, it seemed that was unacceptable._

_So she went back to taking notes. Arisa scrabbled together a new understanding of what girls like her should be, based on observations from those who’d had so much to say. It took time and patience but eventually, after selling whatever she could find and haggling as much as customers would stand, she had enough money to change her appearance again._

_(She’d damn-near had a panic attack after almost selling her dress.)_

_It was… nice enough. Give or take. Lacking much colour or personality, but then that was kind of the point. Now she looked hardly different from the other girls, having caught up and left her silly indulgences behind. Her reflection reclaimed a more reasonable shape, its faults less pronounced as she took on somebody else’s form. If she ignored the sickness in her stomach at the thought that she was adopting an appearance she didn’t want to have, when that was exactly the routine she had worked to leave behind, then everything was perfectly fine._

_Her peers vehemently disagreed. They made it clear that any concession Arisa made would not be enough, she could coat herself in their paint but that did not make her one of them._

_At least… some of them did. Others relaxed now that she’d done as she was told, others even seemed guilty and changed their tunes. And outside of that bubble, many more still were quietly supportive. The school was not small, and for every sharp tongue there were plenty more that simply had nothing to say. She was just another girl, not a target for any malice. But Arisa couldn’t see the wood for the trees. Those sharp tongues lashed the loudest, teaching her to think that everybody thought the same. In time, her fire was stamped down to cold coals, and she gave up on her school entirely._

_Home was the only place she could be her truest self, so home was where she would stay. Yet even then, those snide comments had wormed their way into her head, and the mirror remained warped all the same. The gifted dress, and others like it – things she’d longed for before even knowing she was a girl – they all seemed to hang from her like rags now that she knew she wasn’t meant to love them. In the end, all she could wear to reduce her dysphoria, while never removing it entirely, were the lifeless clothes she’d bought to seem mature. Yet their material itched like a constant reminder of why she was stuck in her room. It was as if she’d caught a sickness and been told to stay home from school, but she had no desire to go back._

_“I could come with you and talk to your teachers,” her grandma offered one night with a knitted brow. “Tomorrow might be different if you try.”_

_“I can’t do it,” Arisa mumbled. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll study at home and keep my grades up.”_

_“I’m not worried about your grades…” Grandma said, hardly focusing on the dough she was rolling for supper._

_Arisa cut the last of the fruit, rinsed her hands, and set out for_ _the garden. “I’m not going back.”_

_The bonsai_ _gave all the company she needed. Their beauty was a break from the laptop screen and with so much of her life now spent in her room, their growth reminded her that despite her stasis, the world still turned beyond those four walls. She needed nobody else. If her bonsai were upset, it was actually her fault. A bad snip, not enough water, too much water, some error on her part. Something she could fix and control. She couldn’t control what people thought of her, no matter how much she tried._

_Sitting_ _cross-legged with her closest friends, Arisa tried for a calming breath. Weeks had passed and nothing had changed, every day the same. She had to try something, anything she could. Her fire sparked feebly and Arisa did the only thing she could think of to try and ease her mind. She turned her gaze skyward, and took in the web of stars._

_Arisa had been too late to experience the things she’d yearned for. Years of her life stolen away by something she couldn’t control, too long spent playing a role not written for her. When she’d finally realised that something was wrong and worked to reclaim what she’d missed, she had been told in no uncertain terms that those dreams were gone for good. Too old now, while paradoxically young, too big now, while hardly tall. Arisa closed her eyes and tried to imagine what may have been had she waited a few years more. If at her age, she had lost so many chances, how much more would she be hurting if she’d dawdled even longer? The thought had her shivering in the warm night. She shook her head free of such what-ifs, and kept watching the starry sky._

_It was a vast and unknowable sea, so high above. Stretching out like the dough that Grandma was making into pie. Strewn with endless stars and unreachable possibilities, things nobody she knew or could possibly hope to know would ever get the chance to experience. There was so much out there in the depths of space that could never feasibly be reached, and down on earth, she was crying over… this? So she’d lost a few years and it wasn’t her fault. Wasn’t that a drop in the ocean?_

_Celestial bodies overhead melted into streaks of light. They danced atop their blurry stage, teasingly out of reach and denying comfort. Even with the broadest perspective she could possibly adopt, Arisa couldn’t brush her feelings aside. She was out of options. The one nebulous idea she’d been able to pull together left her feeling no better than before; if anything, she only cursed herself for being naïve again._

_Arisa sniffled_ _and looked back down at her small audience of bonsai. A breeze barely disturbed their branches and a shiver ran through her again. “Stop it,” she told herself quietly, wiping clumsily at her eyes. “You’ll just make them sad.”_

_The plants watched like sentinels as Arisa made herself small. She took out her phone and tapped to the familiar message board._

_‘I can’t go to school anymore, they all think I’m a freak,’ she typed. ‘I don’t know what to do. I don’t understand what I did wrong. I’m just going to stay at home.’_

_Arisa flipped the phone shut and dropped it to the floor. She watched the sun dip low and the orange seep from the sky. The stars shone far out of reach._

_(Miles away on a camping trip, nestled in the heart of the woods and sat beside her sister, another girl held the stars in her eyes. She stared up at those same constellations and felt a melodic thrum in her chest. She thanked the stars for giving her what she’d been looking for.)_

**⋆** ✦ **★** ✦ **⋆**

* * *

Arisa’s fingertips smudged the bedroom mirror. Kneeling on the floor with tea on the table and the parted curtains letting in starlight, she stared into the glass in reminiscence. She was there, years ago, she could see her smaller self. What lengths she wouldn’t go to reach into her reflection and tug the younger girl into the present. _‘It’s safer now, things are getting better every day. We’re almost there now, you’ll see.’_ The mirror remained staunchly solid and was fogged up by her sigh.

A sleepover was scheduled for tomorrow. It was to be the first time in weeks that the three of them would be together, there was no better time to take the plunge. Arisa had been uncertain when Kasumi invited Aya over. Supposedly it was to celebrate the concert’s success but it was clear that Kasumi had simply missed her. Surely, Arisa thought, after her long-awaited concert, Aya would want time to relax. But she had agreed without a moment’s hesitation; what better way to cool down, she’d asked, than a good sleepover? So Arisa was determined to make it worth her while. She’d gotten home for dinner, made some tea, and thrown herself face first into the duvet. Yet as she lay there sunken in thought, Arisa couldn’t keep her mind from straying to the things that Pareo had said. Her efforts to form a plan ended up plagued with memories of the stasis she’d left behind, she couldn’t concentrate on anything else, it absorbed her.

Her mistake had perhaps been in trying to ignore the past. Kasumi had appeared offering a chance to forget, a chance to chase after something new, and though initially stubborn, Arisa had grabbed the opportunity with both hands without entirely thinking it through. She’d kept her problems buried beneath a frigid exterior even as they continued to bite and snap, but as she’d warmed up to her new friends and new life, those problems raised their voices, demanding to be addressed. She couldn’t hope to move on until she confronted the root of the knot. What would be the best way to weave together her confession and her past?

Starlight glinted off the stickers she’d long ago stuck to her wall. They were pointy, peeling, and rather nostalgic, left there as a reminder of where she’d both started and halted her musical career. As Arisa watched them glow, their shape and shine brought memories of the gift that Grandma had been kind enough to keep. As far as she knew, it was all she had left of those years spent hidden away. The clothes she’d bought to fit in had been sold once they were too small to wear, and the few other dresses in the style of her gift had reluctantly gone along with them. But that flashy thing had weathered the passage of time, remaining as much a part of her as her own heart. She could no more easily part with it than she could with the friends she’d made.

An idea arose and she was back on her feet, throwing open the wardrobe in search. Her tea was getting cold on the nightstand as she rifled through the wardrobe, filling the room with the clicks and clacks of clothes hangers knocking together. She went over lines in her head as she searched, little plans for how to broach the subject at the sleepover.

Before her was a mix of old and new, her handed-down tops in muted shades contrasted by crisp and colourful costumes. Skirts over which she’d bickered with Kasumi – _“It’s way too short!”, “It’ll look great on you!”_ – that nostalgic white top with its plaid purple bowtie, the crop top she’d been talked into accepting, looking like it’d been splashed with paint buckets of many colours, her pale blue blazer with a barely noticeable stain courtesy of Kasumi’s clumsiness. All adorned with tiny little touches either fashioned by hand or bought from accessory shops on sun-drenched trips to the mall. And nestled between the sensible and the vivid, she soon found the gift Grandma had dug up.

Of course, Arisa recalled, she hadn’t simply grown out of it. Never had the chance. She’d been dragged out of the dress by assertions that it was not for her, but she could never quite convince herself to leave it behind. Its stars were a testament to the love she’d retained, even if she no longer wore it. It was anybody’s guess how it’d ended up stuffed in a box. A particularly bad bout of dysphoria, making her think to hide it away? Arisa couldn’t remember. She’d almost sold it by accident once, so it wasn’t too hard to believe. Clumsy, clumsy, just like Kasumi – maybe that made her a hypocrite.

It was with a shudder and the need for a soothing sip of tea that Arisa remembered the past. Years spent poking and prodding herself like she was examining something dead on the street, longing for the power to change what she saw. Refusing to let herself have what she wanted, having been taught that she was too old now, too big now, for the cute and colourful things that other girls had gotten to enjoy. How wide her younger self’s eyes would have grown to see the costumes now lining her wardrobe.

Enough memories for now. She could sit around pensively and reflect on how long it had taken to get this far, or she could challenge herself to go further and yank the knot looser still. Arisa knew which option Kasumi would recommend, and she had a pretty good idea of what Aya might say, too. But guesswork wouldn’t get her far. Vague as it was, a plan was forming in her head. In twenty-four hours’ time, she’d know what they thought for sure.

Arisa held the dress against herself in the mirror. Whatever spell had struck the glass was nearly gone now; it reflected her truest self, and she was almost beginning to see her body the way Kasumi and Aya did. Almost, of course. Her dysphoria wasn’t likely to turn tail and flee, she knew that it was still a part of her. With Kasumi, and Aya, and Sayo and Pareo and who knew how many others, however, she was beginning to recognize that it did not pull her strings. The dress was now hardly fit to wear and gaudy beyond all belief, but she found herself not disliking her reflection.

For now, it went back in the wardrobe for one more night. She had a long day ahead of her and the green tea was growing cold, she’d best get it down and get herself to bed. Her heart returned to a more regular rhythm in the knowledge of how to move forward and she made herself snug under the covers.

Something buzzed beneath her and she jumped a bit, extracting her phone from under her leg. Kasumi and Aya were going back and forth in their new group chat, deciding whether to bring food to the sleepover.

‘ _Don’t worry about snacks_ ,’ Arisa typed to Aya, squinting in the screen’s light. ‘ _We should have enough here as long as Kasumi behaves herself_.’

She hit send and then paused for a moment to think.

‘ _Actually maybe bring a few, if you want_.’

The phone and the tea traded places on the nightstand, and Arisa chuckled into her cup at the buzz of notifications. Reflected in the tea, she saw Kasumi’s pout and Aya’s not unkind laughter. She left them to their chatter, far too tired for any excitement herself. The tea was lukewarm but good, and Arisa’s eyes soon grew heavy under the starlight. She hadn’t bothered closing the curtains, she could do without sleeping in anyway, and through the window she watched the endless stars shine.

The anticipation left a melodic thrum in her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A theme I wanted to explore with this story was the feeling of having years of your life taken away due to being trans. Experiences others got to have slip through your fingers like sand no matter how much you grasp at them, and a hole is left where that life 'should' have been. Arisa tried to reclaim those experiences, seeking things other girls got to have that she had never been offered, but was made to believe that it was too late. As such, she took it upon herself to quickly mature. No childishness, no cute clothes, no levity. She would beat her bullies at their own game.
> 
> Arisa's wardrobe in canon tends to be more mature than that of many other characters, but with Poppin' Party, in their colourful costumes, she seems so much happier. I started to wonder if that practiced maturity, while not something she abhors now, might not have been entirely her choice.
> 
> I put more of myself into this chapter than in anything else I've made, and feedback is especially welcome here!
> 
> In Chapter 7, which is far too long but hopefully still enjoyable, Arisa comes out.


	7. Celestial Bodies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out incredibly long and I couldn’t bring myself to cut much or split it in two, I hope it’s enjoyable all the same!

Arisa tied a lavender ribbon around the bonsai’s trunk. Its material was cheap and shiny, almost dazzling in the morning sunlight. The other bonsai had their own decorations, loosely fitted so as not to risk impeding their growth, and though they might have clashed with the more antique pots, Arisa found herself quite liking them.

After waking up early, she’d suddenly remembered an old box beneath her bed. By some miracle, Kasumi had never found it, and after so long stowed away it had all but faded from Arisa’s mind. Following last night’s reminiscence however, the memories were coming back. The box hadn’t been opened in quite some time and the lid was caked in dust, but inside she’d found them. Old memorabilia her younger self had hoarded like a dragon, yet forgotten when it came time to sell her old things. Back when she’d first come out, Grandma had given her a larger allowance to spend on whatever frills and fancies she liked. Thinking about it now, she had no doubt that Pareo was that store’s most loyal customer. She herself had spared it no more than passing glances in the years since, but she recalled with surprising fondness the excitement she’d worn when dwarfed by shelves of colourful accessories.

The ribbons had been among them. Giving in to self-indulgence, Arisa had rummaged through the box, taken the pastel ribbons she couldn’t have worn more than twice, and set about decorating her bonsai. She had spent years growing jaded and lonely in this place before working to leave that isolation behind and now, she sought to go further and unearth the root of the problem. Arisa’s home had been a place of so much change, so she was beginning to feel that a small change of decor was in order. The basement, of course, had been renovated into a reflection of the friends she’d made, and Kasumi’s sleeping bag on her bedroom floor was a reminder of their bond, but more could be done to make her surroundings match her growth. Arisa couldn’t reach through the mirror and save her younger self from hurting, but perhaps she could bring the girl’s stolen spirit into the present.

Kasumi arrived shortly after to find her in that embarrassing position, cooing to the bonsai while affixing the lavender ribbon around its trunk like a collar around a kitten’s neck.

“You’re here early,” Arisa attempted before Kasumi could note what she was doing.

“Yep!” Kasumi replied simply. She didn’t think an explanation was really necessary at this point. “What’re you up to?”

Arisa gave the ribbon a gentle tug and straightened up, dusting off her skirt. “Just… thought I’d try something. What do you think?” she asked uncertainly. A long-repressed part of her thought she’d done a good job, while her more… public-facing persona was cringing.

Kasumi put her chin in her hand. “They’re super cute!” she said, stepping forward for a closer look. Arisa followed close behind, in case her hand strayed close to the merchandise. “It’s a lot easier to tell them apart now.”

“They’re all… different plants,” Arisa frowned. “They’re not hard to tell apart in the first place.”

“But they were all green and brown! Now they’re more colourful, they’ve got a lot more personality.”

“Alright,” Arisa conceded with a sigh. “As long as they don’t look bad. I wasn’t really sure.”

Kasumi crouched down in front of one with a pale pink bow. “I think they’re nice. And I’m sure Aya-chan will like them, too.”

“A-Aya-senpai?”

Arisa’s confusion was reflected on Kasumi’s face as she turned. “Didn’t you do this to impress her? Because she loves cute things?” she asked.

“Wh—no! I just felt like it!” Arisa denied. For once, she wasn’t lying to save face. Though perhaps her subconscious had been thinking of Aya as it so often did, Arisa had done this for herself. Whether that was more or less embarrassing than doing it to impress her crush was up in the air. Seeing Kasumi’s surprise, she realised how odd it must have looked for her to embrace cuteness on her own.

Arisa began to sweat as Kasumi scanned her face, putting that intuition to use. “Huh!” Kasumi finally said, finding no trace of a lie. “Well, it’s a happy accident then!”

Grandma soon poked her head around the doorway and called them inside for breakfast. She gave Kasumi a warm welcome, and flashed Arisa a knowing smile as she passed. It looked almost… proud? The old woman was the only one to know of exactly how Arisa had spent the past few years, from shut-in to keyboardist to the… acceptable G-word. The thought that her grandma was proud to see her continued progress made Arisa feel gooey inside, and for the sake of her own pride, she tried to bury that feeling under mouthfuls of food.

The meal was a little lighter in the anticipation that they’d be gorging on snacks once Aya arrived. It’d be a challenge to leave room for dinner, though Kasumi would surely clean her plate regardless. The thought prompted Arisa to ask, “What should we do for dinner later?”

“Hmf?” Kasumi hummed with a mouthful of tofu, and another spoonful of soup wobbling dangerously in the air.

“For Aya-senpai,” Arisa elaborated. “Do you know what kind of food she likes? I know what food she takes photos of but whether that’s the same thing, I don’t know.”

“I think some of it is and some of it’s for show,” Kasumi said. “She said she likes omurice, though. How do you make that?”

Arisa fielded the question to her grandma with a tilt of her head. She’d been wanting to learn how to cook, honest, but Arisa and her own laziness were more friends than strangers. Grandma blew on her soup before explaining, “It’s fairly simple. You chop up your vegetables and meat—does Aya-chan eat meat?”

Two nods, one following the other’s lead.

“—And you fry them with the rice and the ketchup, then wrap it all up in an omelette when it’s done. Do you know how to make omelettes?”

“Vaguely,” Arisa murmured.

“I can always help you if you’re struggling, anyway,” Grandma said kindly. Personally, Arisa found the idea of her grandma helping her cook for her crush quite embarrassing, but knew in fairness that Aya would find it adorable. “You might have to run to the shops, though, I’m not sure if we have much rice left…” Grandma continued, avoiding looking at Kasumi for want of not making her feel sheepish.

Arisa had no such qualms. “And who do you think caused that?” she asked, jabbing Kasumi in her side, which had grown pudgier since making a new home for herself at Arisa’s. Kasumi just wriggled in her seat and showed no sign of regret.

“We can get more! We’ve got time!” Kasumi said, determinedly finishing off her tofu even as Arisa searched for ticklish spots she’d never find.

Shoes on, jackets on, out the door and into town. Their budget was slim and precise, Grandma couldn’t afford to keep being so generous, and they had to make it quick in case Aya arrived early like Kasumi already had.

“Rice, ketchup, eggs,” Arisa listed off as they entered the shop.

“Rice, ketchup, eggs,” Kasumi repeated, swinging their interlaced hands.

Kasumi had taken note of Arisa’s better mood even if she didn’t know the cause, taking her hand with even greater confidence knowing that Arisa would happily oblige. Buried under Kasumi’s chatter and the rattling of shopping carts, the icy voice in Arisa’s head that demanded she keep herself distant became so meekly quiet.

“Oh, idea!” Kasumi announced, ignoring the eggs just a few feet away and pointing to a bottle of strawberry syrup. “We could use that to make the ketchup pink, like Aya-chan,” she said, in a welcome return to lunacy after being so sly of late.

“…No.”

“But—”

“It’d taste like strawberries and look like Pepto Bismol,” Arisa interrupted, putting a carton of eggs in the basket. “And I don’t wanna scare her off.”

Kasumi pouted and squeezed her hand. “But Aya-chan would do the same,” she insisted. Arisa thought it over and came to the unfortunate realisation that Kasumi may be right, and that she might have a rather questionable type.

“You can do something nice and _normal_ for her,” Arisa said. “What other food does she like?”

“Um… hamburgers?”

Arisa grunted. That was hardly helpful. “Alright, uh… you can get her some of those hamburger sweets if they’ve got them. But we’ve got a budget, you know.”

“Aye-aye!” Kasumi saluted and dashed away to the confectionery aisle, and Arisa pouted after her as her hand was suddenly un-held. She shook her head. No time for such embarrassing thoughts, she had a shopping list to cross off.

 _Rice, ketchup, got the eggs,_ Arisa thought. Should she get something nice for Aya too? She’d already be contributing her home and some of her grandma’s money, but those little hamburger sweets were tough competition.

 _There is no competition,_ she reminded herself. _She likes you already… probably. No, she does. Do it because you like her too, not because you’re insecure._

Her mind made up, and after checking her purse to make sure she had enough, Arisa set about finding some caramel cookies, recalling Aya’s fondness for the cheesecake. She could distantly hear Kasumi’s thudding footfalls, dashing from aisle to aisle.

_Rice, ketchup, eggs—no, got the eggs, uh, caramel cookies… rice, ketchup, caramel cookies…_

Would it come off strangely though, to make one of Aya’s favourite foods and buy snacks for her? This was what happened when Arisa gave in to her smothered affection: she started going out of her way to please, no doubt thanks to Kasumi’s influence, but wasn’t sure where the line was drawn between kindness and excess. Kasumi was eager to go above and beyond and Aya certainly seemed to like her, so perhaps it would be alright?

Arisa sighed as she scanned the shelves. If nothing else, it’d be a learning experience. Learning the norms of dating – or affectionately hanging out, or whatever it was – seemed like a lengthy process.

_Rice, ketchup, caramel cookies…_

“Oh, Arisa-chan!”

She startled out of her reverie. Rounding the end of the aisle were Tsugumi and Sayo, carrying a basket of flour and brown sugar between them. Arisa’s eyes flickered to their hands, one laid over the other on the basket’s handle. Eagle-eyed, Sayo caught notice and turned a touch pink.

“I-Ichigaya-san, good morning,” Sayo greeted awkwardly. “I assume Toyama-san is with you?” She inclined her head in the general direction of Kasumi’s curious humming.

“Sort of,” Arisa said. “She’s, uh, on an adventure.”

Tsugumi giggled behind her hand. “Are you on one, too?”

“M-me? Uh, I guess, in a manner of speaking.” Arisa was suddenly reminded of countless occasions in which she’d been out shopping with her grandma, only to run into one of Grandma’s friends and end up waiting for ages while they chatted. Despite this recollection, and despite being keenly aware that they should get home soon, Arisa still ended up asking, “What are you guys getting?”

“Just some ingredients,” Tsugumi replied. “We’re gonna make caramel cookies for Roselia’s practice later!”

Arisa couldn’t help the snort of a laugh that escaped her. Tsugumi and Sayo both looked quite confused and she hastened to explain, “A-ah, sorry it’s just, that’s what I’m looking for right now. The cookies themselves, not the ingredients, though.” Disregarding the fear of excess, she suddenly felt a little unimpressive getting store-bought cookies while those two would be making their own. Would it be better to not bother at all if she wasn’t going to put the full effort in?

“Actually, uh… do you think just getting them store-bought might look bad?” she asked them nervously.

Tsugumi waved her hand worriedly like she thought she’d done something wrong. “Oh, not at all! Store-bought stuff is nice too, I’m just used to baking a lot,” she said.

“Are you getting them for somebody else?” Sayo asked knowingly.

Arisa shifted the basket to her other arm. “Y-yeah, they’re for A—a friend, who’s um, visiting later.” She gave Sayo a tiny nod that went unnoticed by Tsugumi, and Sayo raised her eyebrows a fraction.

“I see. Well, baking together could be a worthwhile experience,” Sayo said, subconsciously brushing Tsugumi’s hand with her thumb and drawing a light blush, “but I’m sure they’d appreciate whatever you get.”

“Yeah… I’d try making them myself but just making dinner later is gonna be a learning experience.”

“Oh, well!” Tsugumi said sunnily. “If you’re making them dinner then that’s nice of you already! You could always try baking another day?”

Sayo nodded in agreement and assuredly added, “Yes, you’ll have plenty of time.”

So her confidence hadn’t wavered; Sayo still had faith in Arisa. Safer in the knowledge that things wouldn’t crumble by the night’s end, she could slow down and enjoy the sleepover, rather than rushing to leave the best possible impression for fear of a looming deadline. These were opportunities she would never grow out of, not a string of dreams on a cruel countdown. Arisa hadn’t given much thought to what might come next, but past this hurdle was a wealth of possibilities.

“R-right, thanks,” she said with a small smile that Sayo returned.

“Of course. We’ll not be keeping you then,” Sayo said. “It sounds as though Toyama-san may be lost.”

The distant footsteps had grown uncertain. Arisa sighed, “That wouldn’t surprise me. See you at school,” and headed to find her girlfriend.

She found the cookies, rice and ketchup on her way to the confectionary aisle. When Kasumi came into view, she had a bag of pink, bunny-shaped marshmallows in her hands and a sombre look on her face.

“They didn’t have the little burgers,” Kasumi said sadly. “Do you think she’d like these instead?”

Arisa took them and added them to the basket after a glance at their price tag. “They’re pink and affordable, so they’ll do. You’re in charge of keeping her from counting calories, by the way.”

A cheap bag of soft, star-shaped sweets caught her eye on their way down the aisle, and without a second thought Arisa swiped them into the basket, too. “They’re yours. I’ve got just enough change,” she explained, seeing the Kasumi’s curious look. Her words shifted Kasumi’s demeanour to that of an overexcited dog, so she added, “Don’t make a big deal of it.”

“Arisa, you sweetie!” Kasumi exclaimed for half the store to hear, making as big a deal of it as she could.

“I-It’s nothing, keep it down! I’m not gonna buy for one and not the other,” Arisa downplayed as best she could.

In a blur, her Kasumi’s arms were wrapped around her waist and one of those pointy buns was rubbing against her cheek. “You’re so thoughtful,” Kasumi cooed, unbothered by the metal basket digging into her ribs.

“K-Kasumi! You—there’s—” Arisa’s excuse of being in public was cut short as she found the aisle empty, save for them. “There are cameras!” she tried instead.

“Good.”

Arisa huffed a fierce sigh, blowing Kasumi’s bangs out of place. She untangled their hands and patted Kasumi on the back, then flicked her forehead for good measure. It was enough to make Kasumi finally let go, bouncing on her feet and smiling.

“You’re sweeter than any gummies,” she said cloyingly.

“Yeah, that’s enough of that. We’ve got everything, let’s get a move on.”

“You’re gonna let the cashier see you with such a red face?”

“You can pay yourself if you don’t hush up!”

* * *

The walk home helped to cool Arisa down to an extent, winter’s last gasp chilling her even through her jacket. Kasumi rarely seemed to get genuinely cold, but would still pretend just for an excuse to hold Arisa like a temperamental teddy bear. Her shivers seemed more from giddiness than the chill.

That was how they spent most of their time while waiting for Aya to arrive. If Kasumi was unbothered by the cold, then Arisa would follow her example, blocking out the frigid voice that was hardly more than a whisper and accepting her girlfriend’s cuddling. Were Arisa to continue her habit and overthink even now, she could justify her indulgence with how it kept Kasumi occupied and away from the snacks. It would do no good to empty their supply before the three of them were even in the same room.

“Your body temperature is so cold,” Kasumi hummed approvingly. In place of central heating, she clung to Arisa like a soft space heater, her cheek brushing Arisa’s shoulder and her arms around her waist.

Arisa had a hand on Kasumi’s shoulder, while her other arm was pinned to her side and getting barely enough circulation. “I can’t tell if you’re complimenting me,” she said, giving a tentative squeeze with her free hand. “But thanks?”

“It’s a good thing! You’re great for keeping cool.”

“Good to know I have my uses…” Arisa said dryly. “You’re seriously warm? We don’t even have heating in here.”

Kasumi’s voice was muffled as she squashed her cheek against Arisa. “It’s part of my charm,” she said mysteriously. Apropos of nothing, she tickled Arisa’s side, regretting it when Arisa jolted and sent her shoulder into Kasumi’s jaw.

“Charm is one word for it,” Arisa said, watching Kasumi rub her face. “Come here.”

Once Kasumi shuffled closer, Arisa leaned in and gave her a healing peck on the cheek, then stood and took her phone from the nightstand before Kasumi could react with anything more than an “Oh!”

No new messages. Arisa hoped Aya wasn’t still in bed at this hour. The two vocalists had stayed up inadvisably late, judging from the string of messages ending after midnight. Somehow Kasumi had still shot out of bed and over to Arisa’s before breakfast, but Aya hadn’t sent anything since last night.

“Have you heard from Aya-senpai?” Arisa asked.

“Today? Not yet,” Kasumi replied, rubbing her cheek dreamily.

“You don’t think she’s still asleep, do you?”

Kasumi shimmied to the edge of the bed and picked up her phone from the floor. “Probably not, but we could always text her.”

“We don’t want to seem pushy, though.” **_You_** _don’t want to_ , Arisa mentally corrected herself. She watched Kasumi start to type something out, before both phones suddenly buzzed. Arisa fumbled with hers and opened up the group chat while Kasumi erased what she’d been typing.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – I’m running a little late, sorry! Just to check, is this the right address?_ **(*^** **｡^*)** ]

Attached was a screenshot of a map with directions to Ryuuseidou.

“That solves that!” Kasumi said.

Arisa sighed in relief and wrote a reassuring text, but had barely sent it when another came through, just a split-second later.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – Also… I’m sorry if this is too much trouble, but would it be okay if I just talked over text today? My voice doesn’t feel too good, I might have strained it yesterday…_ **(;´** **・`)** ]

“Oh, that sucks…” Kasumi lamented, her legs on the bed and her top half hanging off the edge. “At least she’s not cancelling, I know being around Popipa made me feel better when I lost my voice.”

“Yeah…”

While Aya’s troubles were cause for concern, it felt as though Arisa was being handed her final test. A perfect opportunity to cancel the sleepover out of concern for Aya’s wellbeing, despite what Kasumi had said. She could delay even further and iron out any flaws in her plan to make a positive response that bit more guaranteed. But being no stranger to finding opportunities to be lazy, Arisa knew that it would only end up being one excuse after another. A new reason to delay would crop up after the last, again and again until her efforts were a distant memory.

Her thumbs started tapping before she could throw her progress away.

[ _Arisa – That’s okay, don’t worry. Let us know when you’re almost here and I can put some tea on, that might help soothe your throat._ ]

She heard a buzz from Kasumi’s phone and glanced up to see her smiling.

Half an hour spent nestled in Kasumi’s arms blurred by before another message from Aya appeared, reading, _‘Almost there!_ **♡** **\\(•** **ᴗ** **•)/♡** ’. Following behind was a blurry photo of a set of steps Arisa had walked up and down a thousand times on her way to and from school.

“Alright,” Arisa wriggled out of Kasumi’s hold. “Can you help me make the tea?”

“Yep!” Kasumi chirped.

A soft whirr and an off-tempo hum filled the quiet outside Arisa’s room. Grandma’s bedroom door was ajar and peeking inside, Arisa found her hard at work in front of her sewing machine, sat beside a growing pile of tiny coats made for the teacups to wear. Arisa stalled long enough for her grandma to glance up, meet her eye, and give her a thumbs up, which she met with a bemused grin. The tuneless humming warbled with a chuckle as Arisa followed Kasumi downstairs.

Once the kettle was on, Arisa waited near the front door and drummed nervously on her arm, while Kasumi pottered around the kitchen deciding which cups each of them should have.

“Arisa!” she called out. “Which cup do you think Aya-chan would want?”

Kasumi’s attention to detail made Arisa feel a little better about her own overthinking. She joined her in combing through Grandma’s collection of teacups, but nearly dropped the one she was holding at the sound of a rhythmic knock at the door.

_Knock-knock, knock-knock._

_(Shu-wa, shu-wa…?)_

Kasumi must have given Aya ideas.

Grandma had just come downstairs and was already standing in the doorway, remarkably fleet of foot for her age. Though she rarely deviated from her calm demeanour, Arisa guessed that she was excited to meet her granddaughter’s crush, knowing how much happier Kasumi alone had made her. Arisa chose a floral-patterned cup at random and set it next to the other two, then strode over to the front door. Peeking around her grandma, she saw Aya with her phone in hand and a nervous look on her face.

Under her other arm was a bag fit to burst with sleepover supplies. The zipper wouldn’t fully close and the corner of a sleeping bag was poking out. From the sweat that had beaded on Aya’s forehead, the bag seemed leaden as stone. Arisa hoped her message about snacks hadn’t prompted her to pack a feast.

“I can take it from here,” Arisa told her grandma, noticing Aya’s eyes dart over to her. “Aya-senpai lost her voice after the concert, so talking is kind of hard.”

Aya relaxed slightly at her explanation, untensing her shoulders and gripping her phone less tightly. She pressed a finger to the screen for a few seconds, likely deleting a frantic explanation she’d been typing to show to Grandma.

“Oh dear, do come in for some tea, Aya-chan,” Grandma said, stepping out of the way and motioning over to the kitchen. “It isn’t a cure-all but it’s good for a sore throat.” Like grandmother, like granddaughter, Arisa noted amusedly.

“Aya-chan!” Kasumi came bustling into the hallway with a cup of tea in each hand, one covered in flowers and the other in simple stripes. Her own was left on the table – she’d chosen the onigiri-patterned mug that Grandma had given her for Christmas, already sporting more chips than those Grandma had owned for years.

“Careful, spillages,” Arisa warned, accepting her cup. Aya took her own with great care, well-aware of her own clumsiness. It was full to the brim so she blew on it as gently as possible, then took a sip, smiled, and frowned at the realisation that she didn’t have enough hands for her phone.

“Oh, right. Kasumi, she can’t talk with her hands full,” Arisa said, taking Aya’s bag while she typed something out.

Arisa’s phone buzzed in her pocket but now her hands were full, too. Sweating in the awkwardness, she said, “Let’s get the tea upstairs, then we can chat.”

“Why don’t I take Aya-chan’s bag upstairs while you show her around, Arisa?” Grandma offered.

Aya pinkened at the prospect. It was as though she’d never been to a sleepover with a crush, which was entirely possible, Arisa realised, but seemed highly unlikely for such a… a—

That train of thought came to an abrupt stop. Sing enough of Aya’s praises and Arisa’s own face would turn scarlet, nevermind what it’d do to Aya if she knew what was being thought of her.

“S-sure,” Arisa stammered. “There’s not really that much to see, though…”

“Oh, no, it’s a treasure trove!” Kasumi said, returning with her own cup. “There’s so much cool old stuff in Arisa’s house. And you’ll wanna see the bonsai for sure,” she told Aya with a wink.

Arisa flustered. “I told you, I didn’t—” she cut herself off when Aya looked at her curiously. “Nevermind, let’s… let’s go.”

Per Kasumi’s prediction, Aya was delighted by the adorably-dressed bonsai. When she found the one with the pale pink ribbon, whose leaves somewhat resembled the pigtails she wore on stage, she started looking for meaning in what had, honestly, been an accident. The basement similarly caught her interest, noting how much Maya would gush over the vintage tech inside, and its lack of mirrors seemed to put her at greater ease. No doubt those in her own practice room had reflected many of her stumbles in their time.

Grandma called out as they were passing by her room, inviting them eagerly in. Where Arisa had expected to see homemade new clothes she was instead met by polka-dotted baskets, a case for reading glasses, two flowery aprons and a picnic blanket, all surprisingly well-made for a beginner. Grandma proudly displayed her teacup coats of many colours, taking Aya’s cup for a moment to wrap it up warm.

“Arisa mentioned how much you like cute things so I made them with you in mind,” she smiled.

Tears threatened to make ripples in Aya’s lukewarm tea as she held the cup close to her heart, stammering appreciation. Arisa guided her from the room, giving her grandma a fondly exasperated look over her shoulder.

The tour came to a close fairly quickly after that. Aya looked in need of a sit down after lugging her bag on foot and then being whisked off to tour the house, and Kasumi’s stomach had started to protest. Arisa led them down the hallway and tentatively opened her bedroom door. She’d cleaned up whatever had been out of place last night, and smoothed down the duvet before coming downstairs, but still felt nervous as Aya took it all in. After a moment spent looking around, Aya started typing a message.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – Your room is so cosy, Arisa-chan! It feels very you_ **❀(*^** **◡^*)** **❀** ]

“It’d be cosier if it had heating,” Arisa mumbled. Even after showing Aya around, it still felt a little odd replying to texts out loud, and their message history was starting to look like Aya was tragically rambling to herself. Still, it was heart-warming to know she was so determined to spend time together that she’d visit even after losing her voice.

Soon they were all sat cross-legged on the rug, with an assortment of snacks heaped in the middle like bonfire kindling at a campsite. Arisa quickly realised, however, that she had no idea what a sleepover actually entailed. Certainly, she’d had sleepovers with the band and with Kasumi alone many times, but despite having made friends outside of Poppin’Party she had yet to spend this kind of private time with anyone but those four – let alone with a new crush. Just thinking about it made her hands slick with sweat until she had trouble opening her bag of popcorn.

Surely there was more to it than an overdose of calories and a nervous, half-planned coming-out. The latter was hardly a staple of most sleepovers anyway, despite what some media had led her to believe. They’d be making dinner together later and, she supposed, sleeping too, both of which seemed fundamental, but what was meant to happen in between?

For a while they simply sat there, working their way through the snacks and talking and texting about whatever came to mind. Once the texting became less awkward, their chat started to feel quite relaxing; the sound of crinkling cellophane and the slight chill of winter’s end were oddly comforting in how ordinary they were. Far from the grit-teeth, narrow-eyed theatrics the worst parts of her brain might have dreamt up, Arisa was starting to feel like her eventual coming out would be a similarly calm conversation, just like Sayo had suggested.

Eventually the topic turned to last night’s performance, as Kasumi lamented the security staff not letting her visit backstage and Arisa spared her silliness no sympathy.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – Thanks for cheering me on, by the way. It caught me by surprise so I kind of messed up, but I really appreciated it_ **(˶′** **◡** **‵** **˶** **)** ]

None of them had mentioned the call during last night’s conversation, even Kasumi had held herself back. Arisa had assumed that Aya was embarrassed by her fumble and wanted to leave it unacknowledged, but it seemed she was the type to own her mistakes, or had at least grown numb to them.

“It’s no problem,” Arisa said bashfully. “Least we could do.”

Her words only made Aya type more insistently.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – I mean it! It means a lot to know you like my singing. I feel like I didn’t sound great…_ **(** **⌒_** **⌒;)** ]

Arisa frowned at her phone. “Why not? It was the same as always.” Kasumi chuckled a little next to her, reminded of a fellow vocalist, and Arisa ignored it. “I mean, you sounded as good as you usually do. If not better after all that practicing.”

At her words, Aya paused for a moment in thought. She slowly typed another message, deleting one attempt before sending.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – You don’t think I sound weird?_ ]

“Of course not,” Arisa replied, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you sounded cute as ever!” Kasumi agreed.

Aya smiled shyly down at her phone, and lost some invisible tension.

Thankfully, even if Aya wasn’t overly familiar with sleepovers herself, she had at least done some cursory research. Though her sleeping bag had taken up a lot of space, there was plenty more stashed away in her bag, too. As well as more snacks, there were several DVDs in different genres, colourful bottles of nail polish, and a deck of cards for good measure, though they looked like they’d never been opened. None of them were fond of horror films so that one went back in the bag, and the gleam in Aya’s eyes made no secret of her preference for a DVD of old idol concerts, so in the end, they settled on watching that.

Some of the recordings looked professionally done while others, as Aya explained, she’d filmed herself the few times she’d been able to see them live. It was easy to spot which ones were Aya’s own – the footage jolted this way and that in her unconstrained excitement. It communicated her passion more clearly than any rambling or walls plastered in posters ever could.

Arisa vaguely recognized the group. She had watched them on the internet a few times when she was young, always covering the screen with her arm when Grandma walked by. In retrospect, she’d had no need for secrecy, but try telling that to a ten-year-old in the midst of feelings she didn’t yet understand. Back then, the group’s outfits had captured her imagination, and now that she knew more of what went into making a costume, she could appreciate the intricate craftsmanship.

Halfway through one concert, Kasumi sat up straight, saying she’d just remembered something. Without further explanation, she grabbed something from her bag, probably her phone, then left the room, saying, “Back in a sec!”

The shaky-cam footage had Aya far too captivated to pay her much mind, so Arisa was the one to pause the recording. Aya blinked out of her trance as the music stopped, then took note of Kasumi’s absence.

“She’s just gone to do something, god knows what,” Arisa explained, looking to the door. Had she forgotten to let her parents know about the sleepover again? Arisa found it unlikely that Kasumi’s family would mind, they were used to her treating both houses as her own. Her phone buzzed on the rug.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – Oh, ok!_ ]

[ _Aya_ _♡ – What do you think so far?_ **♪(** **๑ᴖ** **◡ᴖ** **๑)** **♪** ]

Arisa tilted her head for a second before realising they were talking about the concert. “They’re pretty good, I quite like their costumes,” she admitted. “Their vocalist reminds me a bit of you.”

That was apparently the height of compliments. Aya beamed like sunlight, eyes wide, smile wider, and tapped at her phone energetically.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – That’s the idea!! She’s the best!!_ ***\\(** **≧∇≦)/*** ]

Perhaps not the very best, Arisa mused, considering Aya’s band was still popular and performing and this vocalist’s own was gone, but she kept that thought to herself. It was interesting to see who an idol idolised, and she had to wonder if younger girls currently saw Aya in the same light. There was Pareo, of course, but she was already in a band and didn’t seem interested in being an idol herself. Arisa couldn’t help but imagine another reality in which she hadn’t been met with such opposition. If she had been allowed to embrace the cuteness she’d been denied, would she have chased a similar dream to Aya’s?

As if reading her mind, Aya sent another message.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – I wonder what you’d look like in one of Pastel✽Palettes’ costumes?_ ]

[ _Aya_ _♡ – You and Eve-chan are both keyboardists and both have a purple thing going on, so if she was just a little shorter you could wear her outfit!_ **(●^o^●)** ]

Her wonder resurfaced a memory Arisa thought was long-buried by now, of dreaming up the exact same image when seeing those idols on the internet. Arisa’s mind had strayed in that direction a few more times since then, especially after becoming more familiar with Pastel✽Palettes, but she’d always done a good job of reigning those thoughts in. Now, however, having made some progress in moving past that repression… the idea didn’t quite ignite the same euphoria as it might have done years ago, but her heartbeat quickened, to say the least.

“I don’t know that it’d suit me, but I guess I’d try it on,” she said shyly.

Aya’s eyes sparkled. _‘I bet it would!’_ she typed. _‘If someone like me can wear cute stuff, it’d look great on you. The dress you wore the other week looked really cute_ **✧⁺** **⸜** **(●** **≧** **▾** **≦** **●)** **⸝** **⁺✧** _’_

Arisa frowned at the self-deprecation snuck in there – that was supposed to be her speciality, not Aya’s – but let it go, too busy warming under the unexpected praise. “T-thanks, I’m glad it looked okay,” she said, and the memory of Aya’s offered support kept her mouth running after she’d meant to keep it shut.

“…Do you think it’s okay for me to wear stuff like that?”

Aya’s hair whipped in front of her face as she nodded vigorously. Behind it, her expression was an image of assuredness.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – It’s more than okay, you looked super pretty_ ]

[ _Aya_ _♡ – You and Kasumi-chan would look great in anything you wore_ **(*•̀ᴗ•́*)ﻭ** **✧** ]

A shiver crept through Arisa as she stared at her phone. She had to read it twice to make sure that her eyes weren’t playing tricks, and she only wished that she could send those words like a message in a bottle, back to the past for her middle-school self to see.

The door creaked back open and roused her from her daze, as Kasumi returned with a glass half full of water. Aya looked up and gave her a little wave and Arisa raised her brow, asking, “Were you just thirsty?”

Kasumi set the glass down on the table and put something back in her bag. “Super thirsty!” she said. So she gave her health some thought after all, it seemed, having gotten water instead of another soda from the pile. Aya quickly resumed the recording and saccharine songs filled the room again.

The last recording ended just in time for dinner, though with how much food they’d absently gotten through, making a meal felt more like a formality. Aya became suddenly hungry at the mention of omurice, however, and Kasumi would gladly finish anything Arisa didn’t manage. Once they were set up in the kitchen, Grandma joined them to help however she could, which turned out to be necessary when Aya revealed that she knew little about preparing food.

“Don’t you work at the fast food place?” Kasumi asked.

Aya hid behind her phone and typed meekly.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – I only really know how to make the stuff we sell… My mom does most of the cooking at home_ **(** **◞** **‸** **◟,)** ]

Their roles were divvied out, with Aya cutting the meat while Arisa carefully chopped the vegetables and Kasumi handled the rice. Apparently in Aya’s house, they typically made the dish using leftover rice, but with Kasumi frequenting Arisa’s, that would never be an option. Despite her inexperience, Aya at least took to the task with more competence than the others. Arisa did her best under her Grandma’s supervision and Kasumi’s hunger drove her to work hard, but the resulting dish looked like it had been dropped during cooking. Thankfully it tasted good enough to make up for its presentation, and Aya seemed happy all the same.

“We still should have gotten the syrup,” Kasumi lamented.

 _‘Syrup?’_ Aya typed with one hand, while the other stuck a spoonful in her mouth.

Arisa shot Kasumi a look and told Aya not to worry about it.

Turns out, you felt hungrier when you’d made the food yourself. None of them had a problem cleaning their plates, even if Arisa felt ready for a nap by the end, and with their dinner finished, it felt as though they had moved into the second stage of the sleepover. There was no perfect time for Arisa to go through with her plan so she would simply have to look for a moment that felt right, and seize it before she could think twice.

Amber crept in to the sky and swallowed up swathes of blue, a scattering of stars came out, and the three decided to change into their pyjamas. Kasumi had started keeping a pair in Arisa’s wardrobe, so Arisa took them out for her before she could stumble across the old dress. The other two stepped out while Kasumi got changed, and Aya went to change in the bathroom. When she returned, she looked as snug as a pink plush toy, and it was hard not to hug her for warmth.

Arisa may have missed how Aya’s eyes widened at seeing her after she’d gotten changed, but Kasumi took note. Aya got a notification and averted her eyes, then started typing herself. When Kasumi’s phone buzzed but her own did not, Arisa looked curiously at the two of them, and a devilish grin took over Kasumi’s face. Immediately Aya’s thumbs hammered her screen in a frantic plea, but Kasumi was faster and put her phone right up in Arisa’s face.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – Is this how my fans feel when they see me with my hair down?_ **(** **♡ >** **ｏ < ****♡)** ]

Her face and Aya’s were one and the same, from what slivers of red Arisa could see behind Aya’s fingers, held up as a flimsy shield.

“It doesn’t look weird?” Arisa asked bashfully. “I’m so used to having it up.”

Aya peeked at her through her fingers and typed in the group chat.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – I think you look cute…_ **(˶ >** **﹏** **<** **˶** **)** ]

Arisa rubbed her hair between her finger and thumb, subconsciously covering part of her red face with it. “T-thanks, if you’re sure,” she said.

Unnoticed by the pair of them, Kasumi watched them tiptoe through their feelings with a fond smile.

None of them had the energy for anything too demanding, content to just sit around and chat as they recovered from how much they’d eaten. Arisa put the remaining snacks out of sight before Kasumi could get any regrettable ideas, and Aya kept hiding yawns behind her hands and blinking herself stubbornly awake.

As the sky grew darker, Kasumi was drawn to the view outside the window, turning off the light and inviting the others to stargaze. The three of them sat side by side on Arisa’s bed and Kasumi described the constellations she could see. Or at least, those she thought she might be able to see, if she squinted.

“If you look there, next to that stain on the window, it kinda looks like Gemini if it was flipped upside down,” she explained. Aya tried to follow as best she could. Arisa reminded herself to give the windows a good cleaning.

“And that could be Canis Minor, but it’s missing a few stars.”

[ _Aya_ _♡ – You seem to know a lot about stars, Kasumi-chan!_ **(** **☆^ᴗ^** **☆)** ]

“Thanks! Hina-chan told me about them one time, she knows a lot more than me,” Kasumi explained cheerfully.

Something seemed to click in Aya’s head and she sighed softly, typing out another message, this time only to Arisa.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – Hina-chan must have taught her how to tease me as well…_ **(** **っ- ‸ – ς)** ]

“No, Kasumi does that all on her own,” Arisa murmured, just loud enough for it to catch Kasumi’s attention.

“Kasumi does what?” the girl in question asked.

“Lots of silly things,” Arisa replied reflexively.

Only a handful of stars could clearly be seen as the night had not fully arrived. Kasumi seemed to have been seeing constellations in specks of dust on the window, and Arisa suggested that she try again once the sun had dipped out of sight. They sat there in the quiet, slightly cold in their pyjamas, watching the world beyond the window grow dim and beautiful. Soon, more stars began to glow like pinpricks poked into the darkening veil, and with each one, Kasumi’s eyes seemed to shine a little brighter. She shuffled close and hugged Arisa’s arm at the first sign of a shiver, lending some of that everlasting warmth, and if that wasn’t enough, laid a kiss on her cheek, dispelling the last of the cold.

Moments later, Arisa’s other hand grew unexpectedly warm. Aya’s fingers tentatively interlaced with her own and from the corner of her eye, Arisa watched her reflection in the glass. She found Aya staring wide-eyed, straight ahead, as if she hadn’t expected herself to be so bold, either. Bright pink eyes grew shiny with timid tears and kept glancing nervously in Arisa’s direction. In shared shock, they only felt each other’s warmth, and Kasumi hummed happily as she took notice. The stars cropping up in the endless space didn’t seem so far away anymore.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” Arisa mumbled eventually.

Kasumi and Aya tilted their heads and let go with clear reluctance. “Just gonna make some tea, I’m parched,” she explained, getting up and walking to the cracked-open door. Light from the hallway crept in as she stepped through, and she turned back for a moment to see the pair of them holding hands. Arisa willed her heartbeat to calm on her way down to the kitchen.

She reassured herself that she wasn’t running away. She did need a drink before she could begin, her throat dry from nerves and with a bothersome lump. Arisa wasn’t running, she was just going to prepare, and who better to help than the old woman at the table?

“Arisa,” Grandma greeted. Her hands were wrapped around a cup of her own, sweater and all, warm like a campfire and still letting off steam.

“Hey,” Arisa replied. She nodded to the kettle. “Is there enough left for three more?”

“Luckily, yes,” Grandma smiled.

Their cups were where they’d left them. Kasumi’s had a little left, stone-cold by now, and Arisa finished it off for her, feeling warm. She poured three servings and spilled a couple of drops on the counter. She set them down on the tray, then took the tray to the table and sat down opposite Grandma.

“I’m still a little bit scared.”

Grandma set her cup down softly. “I can tell,” she said. “Are you talking to them tonight?”

Arisa nodded her head.

“Do you think they’re going to be upset?”

Arisa shook her head.

“Of course not,” Grandma said. “But it’s okay to be nervous.”

She took another sip of her tea and Arisa made to do the same, but it was much too hot so she managed only a drop before scowling at it.

“I don’t get it, though. Is it just never gonna go away? I’m so done with it, I know they’re not going to mind but it’s still there, nagging at me.” Arisa blew impatiently on her tea.

A still moment passed between them as Grandma considered her words. In the quiet, Arisa’s eyes strayed to the pattern wrapped around Grandma’s cup. Its uneven stars in shades of yellow made her hands tighten around her own, and she disguised a sigh as another attempt to cool the tea. Soon the silence was broken by a crick easing its way out of Grandma’s back as she got up. Still holding her cup in one hand, she padded over to Arisa, saying, “It’s only natural to be a little nervous about something so important to you. I remember when I confessed to your grandpa, I was shaking like a leaf,” she chuckled. “But still…”

She extended a hand and helped Arisa back up from her seat. “You’ve had enough worries for one childhood,” Grandma said. She squeezed Arisa’s hand then retracted her own, cupping it as though holding something fragile. “Let me hold on to them while you have your talk. Then, once it’s all done, we can toss them in the bin together.”

The placebo effect worked, Arisa’s frown lines evening out. She placed her unburdened hand around her teacup, cooled just enough not to scald. “Kasumi’s been an influence on you,” she noted. “Whether good or bad I’m not sure, but I’ll be having a word with her about it.”

Grandma just smiled that same gentle smile, the one that crinkled her eyes and draped calm over her granddaughter like a blanket warmed on the radiator. Then she mimed putting the worries down on the table, handed Arisa the tray of teacups, and gave her a small push toward the staircase.

“Good luck, Arisa.”

* * *

She was halfway up the stairs when her phone buzzed twice.

Arisa balanced the tray of tea in one hand while she fished her phone from her pocket. Expecting Aya to be asking if everything was alright, Arisa was surprised to see Lisa’s name and cat-like grin at the top of her notifications.

[ _Lisa – Hey Arisa! Sayo just asked me for your number so if you get a text from an unknown number, that’ll be her. I’m sure you’ll be able to tell from her Sayo-tone anyway. I didn’t know you guys were close, are you planning on getting yourself a third girlfriend? Haha_ ]

[ _Lisa – I’m only joking don’t tell Sayo I said that pls_ ♡ ]

Another message came through before she could really process Lisa’s texts, this time from an unsaved number, as mentioned. Two more followed soon after.

[ _Ichigaya-san, this is Sayo. I hope I am not interrupting your date, I simply wanted to wish you good luck after your earlier implication. I am certain that Toyama-san and Maruyama-san will be receptive._ ]

[ _You have the will, I implore you not to back down._ ]

[ _If you have already told them or my assumption was incorrect, please disregard these messages._ ]

In a different frame of mind, Arisa might have noted the hypocrisy of Sayo’s investment after advising that she not treat it as a big deal. As it was, however, Arisa was drawn from her focus at the sound of teacups rattling on the tray. She quickly stowed her phone to grab the tray before it could spill, then took a deep, calming breath. Sayo’s timing couldn’t have been more pertinent despite worrying that she was too late. Knowing that she and Grandma were behind her, and that reassurance from Poppin’Party and even Pareo was only a phone call away, Arisa stilled her shaky hands and made it to the bedroom door. She silently promised to text Sayo her thanks when the long night had reached its end.

The other girls’ faces were squished against the window when Arisa stepped back into the room. “That one has to be Gemini, for real,” Kasumi was saying, voice muffled. “You see?”

Aya tried to nod but knocked her forehead on the glass. She rubbed it with a pout before Kasumi moved her hands away, stood on her tiptoes, and placed a kiss where it’d started to turn red.

Arisa put the tray on the nightstand with a soft _clack_.

A startled squeak left Aya and she jolted away, still grabbing Kasumi’s arm for support despite herself. Kasumi spotted Arisa and gave her a wave, looking faintly flushed in the dim lighting herself.

“Good to know you’re not completely mute,” Arisa told Aya with a small smile. She didn’t join them, tempting as it may have been, instead standing awkwardly by the nightstand with her hands behind her back. “Do you think your voice is coming back?”

Aya glanced around for her phone and picked it up off the bed.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – Not yet, I don’t think…_ **(●´** **⌓`** **●)** ]

“I’m sure it’ll be back tomorrow,” Kasumi said. She took a shortcut across the bed to grab her cup of tea, messing up the duvet without Arisa giving much of a care.

“It’s still hot, careful,” Arisa told the two as Aya took her own. “Um, when you’ve put your cups down, I want to show you something. If that’s okay…?”

“Mhm!” Kasumi murmured into her drink. Aya blew on hers and nodded.

“Thanks,” Arisa said softly.

Hand on heart, she felt for Pareo’s note folded in her breast pocket. A pastel paperweight grounding her mind, even as she felt herself grow nearer to the stars.

They sat together again on the bed while they drank, hands sadly too full to hold one another’s. Arisa felt a calming warmth at her core, shooing away the chill of winter’s end. Mixed with the absence of that stubborn anxiety, it was almost enough to lull her to sleep. She’d kept the sugar far away from her tea, not needing a reason to be jittery, and even with the spoonful in the other girls’ drinks, they looked hardly more awake. Aya openly yawned for seconds at a time and Kasumi rubbed at her drowsy eyes, the teacup in her other hand tilting precariously as her attention waned. In the quiet of the night, Arisa had scarcely felt more at home in her own room.

Arisa forgot her form. She forgot the loud whispers listing everything that was wrong with her. She forgot the tiniest imperfections of a face that nobody but her would truly care to pick apart. She forgot the hands barely bigger than those of the other girls playing piano. She forgot everything she had been told would prevent her from being who she was, and everything meant to separate her from the girl on her left, and the girl on her right. All differences forgotten, their hearts beat as one.

“Alright.”

She stood and set her tea back on the tray.

“Oh, you’ve still got some left,” Kasumi noted.

“I’ll need it later,” Arisa mumbled under her breath.

Kasumi and Aya stayed seated as Arisa flicked on the lamp and walked over to open the wardrobe. Even in the dim light, those costumes shone, but nothing glowed as brightly as her old dress. She pretended to search for a few seconds, as though she hadn’t memorized where to find it, but she was only delaying. Old habits die hard, she told herself gently.

She held the dress against her body for a moment before she turned. The hem barely reached her waist and she knew it’d be vice-like around her shoulders, but three years was plenty of time to grow. Remembering how well it had fitted her back then, not too slim for her shoulders nor too shapeless to fit her form, she realised just how much those sharp-tongued girls had made up problems that were never there.

“I just wanted to show you this,” Arisa said, turning and holding it up before them.

Every inch of the dress was covered in golden stars. Some had points peeling off, their sticky backs dotted with bits of purple fluff, others clung to the fabric like they’d never let go. Though their colour had dulled with time the stickers still caught the lamplight and shone, the royal purple fabric barely noticeable in the gaps between. Against her she held a night sky too starry for sleep, all darkness denied beneath bright stellar lights. A few loose stickers had fallen off overnight, and even as she held it out, another star fell to earth. Arisa could have wished upon it, if she’d liked.

Kasumi’s eyes were unsurprisingly wide. No doubt, she’d wear it herself if she could, old, tacky stickers and all. Arisa could hardly get another word out before she was interrupted.

“It’s—”

“It’s so cute!” Kasumi exclaimed. “So shiny!”

Arisa’s lips quirked in a tiny smile. “Yeah, I guess so,” she said. Kasumi’s appraisal was as good a start as she could hope for. “It’s… you know how I used to get star stickers from practice, and stuck them on things I liked?”

Kasumi nodded eagerly while Aya raised her eyebrows, new to the information but rolling with it. She seemed more interested in the dress itself, in the ribbons and frills beneath the stars. It had a little something for both of them, Arisa thought.

Deep breaths, one after the other. The warmth in her chest like a fireplace. She blinked away the shine in her eyes. “This used to be my favourite thing in the world, so I went overboard with the stars. It’s the first dress I ever wore, after I came out as trans.”

Her eyes were growing tired in the night but stayed determinedly open. She saw how Kasumi’s own turned incredibly wide, while the rest of her face was unreadable. Then, as it sunk in, her face was graced with a radiant smile, spreading out like dough beneath a rolling pin. Kasumi opened her mouth to speak—

“You…”

Both of them jumped and snapped their attention to Aya.

It had hardly been more than a whisper, but Aya clamped her hands over her mouth. Her shining eyes were wide as the moon. She shrank in under their stares, levelling her gaze at her lap, unmoving for a moment before she picked up her phone. Her thumbs blurred across its screen, even as her vision grew blurry and damp.

Arisa’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She took it out, read the message, and stiffened like a motionless doll.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – You too?_ ]

The message bubble flickered again, but vanished.

Arisa was frozen in time. She felt the stasis creep back in, locking her limbs and forbidding her to blink. In the corner of her eye, Kasumi had recovered faster and was whipping her head back and forth between the two girls. She hardly noticed, stuck staring into the light of her screen, until the glass was dripping wet and the words were illegible. She looked up.

Aya was trembling. Her chest was starting to heave and fat, heavy tears rolled down her face. She made tiny, quiet squeaks as she cried, shed rivulets on her pyjamas. Kasumi shuffled over and Aya clung to her, stuffing her face in her collar.

“You’re trans?” Kasumi asked softly. Her eyes were locked with Arisa’s but Aya nodded into her just as Arisa nodded herself. For a moment, Aya simply dampened the front of Kasumi’s shirt, but eventually she pulled back and began to type again, rubbing tears out of one eye while Kasumi helped her with the other. Arisa hardly needed to check the notifications on her phone, she could imagine what Aya was saying based solely on the looks on Kasumi’s face as she watched over Aya’s shoulder. From surprise to sympathy, to what looked like quiet elation.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – I wanted to tell you eventually but I didn’t know how. I was so worried I’d be the outsider_ ]

[ _Aya_ _♡ – I never imagined it would go like this_ ]

Kasumi held Aya tighter while Arisa stared dimly at her phone. Though smiling, Kasumi began to shiver along with her.

“So we’re n-not alone!”

Aya looked up as teardrops dampened her hair. Kasumi’s chuckle was watery and she was shaking her head as if it didn’t make sense, while Aya and Arisa stared. “Both of you, I’m like both of you!” she said. “What are the odds of this happening?”

Every possible fantasy that had cycled through Arisa’s head, those hopeful, pessimistic and everything in between, none had strayed close to the scene playing out before her. The warmth in her chest flickered in her confusion, its flame lapping at her not painfully, not scalding, but more like an itch, or even a playful tickle. It could have been laughing, that comfort she’d found, amused that for all the reassurance she’d received over the weeks, she had never so much as entertained this fantasy. She stood shock-still, holding the dress with an almost numb hand, just waiting for her mind to catch up.

“What are you saying…?” Arisa asked when finally she found her voice. Her legs were too leaden to join them on the bed, so she stood rooted to the spot and watched. “Both of you? You’re both trans, too?”

“It looks—apparently!” Kasumi laughed, flecking more tears on the duvet. She took one arm away from Aya but held her just as tight with the other, and extended her hand. “Arisa?”

Arisa messily wiped her eyes and reached out, took Kasumi’s hand, fell forward onto the bed with them. Immediately, Kasumi held her close like she was precious.

Kasumi’s touch felt like fireworks again. The same way it had when they had first met, the way it had when they admitted they were dating, the way she had tried to ignore in those moments of repression. Sparks hit her skin and tingled with every touch, and being wrapped up like a gift in Kasumi’s arms felt like clinging to a star.

It felt as though her chest was coming undone, empty space upon empty space filling up around her lungs. Every breath she took, though quick and racked with shivers and sobs, felt like a gulp of air after breaking water’s surface. The gnarled knot was suddenly little more than a memory, its roots shrivelled away into nothingness. In its long-awaited absence, Arisa felt free to breathe deeply again.

“I was so worried,” she sniffled into Aya’s shoulder, the three of them having ended up in a heap. “I never thought you’d be like me. I thought—I thought you were somehow above me.”

Aya felt around for her phone and turned her head to type.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – I was afraid I’d be the odd one out too. I didn’t know if it would be okay_ **(, >** **▂ <,) **]

Arisa heaved a sigh so deep and so long that she felt her lungs might shrivel up too. “I worried so much about nothing… we all did.” She heard Aya try to giggle but it came out more like another sob. Then Arisa stopped and frowned, turning to Kasumi, whose hold had loosened as she calmed. “Wait, did you?”

“Huh?” Kasumi unburied her face from Aya’s crown. She had a few pink hairs stuck to her cheek and her eyes were puffy. “Um… not much,” she confessed, rubbing her eye. “But I still feel better now that you know. Were you worrying this whole time?”

“Yes!” Arisa blurted. Aya jumped a bit. “I can’t believe—if I’d just known, I wouldn’t… I mean, you didn’t have to tell me so don’t feel bad but I just,” she sighed again, more frustratedly. “I could’ve dealt with this so much sooner.”

Kasumi switched targets and kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry. If I’d known you were worried I would have told you myself.”

“I just said, don’t feel bad,” Arisa huffed. “Really, it’s my own dumb fault for not trusting you enough. I just… _ugh_. I wish I’d been worried for a reason.”

Finally detaching herself from Kasumi’s side, Aya nudged closer to Arisa and reached out to take her hand. While not quite meeting her eyes, she swallowed and said quietly, “I-It’s okay now, though. We don’t have to worry anymore.” Arisa relaxed slightly and squeezed her hand, feeling the warmth spread right to her fingertips.

“Yeah, I guess it’s over,” she sighed, though it hadn’t yet fully set in. Hearing Aya’s words, she asked, “Um, is your voice…?”

Aya stiffened, loosening her hold. A look of shame took over her face and she bit her lip, then explained, “I-I’m sorry… I just woke up feeling really bad about my voice and I was worried you’d think I sound weird, so I—I made something up—”

Her other hand was taken up by Kasumi, who laced their fingers together and rubbed Aya’s hand with her thumb. “Don’t feel bad, it’s okay,” she soothed.

“You don’t have to talk if it’s uncomfortable,” Arisa added. She was met with a shake of the head.

“No, I… I can do it, I can try. I feel a little more comfortable with you.”

Arisa flushed and looked away. “If you’re sure.”

The starry dress lay draped over the edge of the bed. As they’d shuffled around, trying to get comfortable in a mess of elbows and knees, the three of them had brushed up against it and gotten loose stickers stuck here and there. Aya had a star on her shoulder, Kasumi had another on her leg. As she noticed one stuck to Arisa’s side, Kasumi leaned over to pick up the dress, and admired it wonderingly. “So this was your first ever dress?” she asked.

“It’s s-so cute that you kept it,” Aya said shyly.

Arisa picked another sticker off the bedsheet and stuck it to Kasumi’s arm absent-mindedly. “Yeah. It’s got some good memories, some bad. I loved it for a while but the other girls said it was stupid.”

Kasumi and Aya both frowned near-identically. “Why did they say that?” Kasumi asked.

It took the rest of her tea and a good deal of comfort, but Arisa gradually took them through the past. The dress, whispered words, those new, wrong clothes, the endless space and the empty stasis. Kasumi’s frown deepened in a rare show of resentment as Arisa described the lies she’d been told, and Aya grew tearful once more in empathy.

“I figured if I couldn’t be what I wanted, I’d just beat them at their own game,” Arisa explained. “If I’m ‘mature’ like them, they won’t have anything to say. But that didn’t work either, nothing did, so I left. Stayed at home. I think that only made it worse, though.”

“It was worse at home?” Kasumi asked quizzically, her grievance giving way to confusion. “But I thought, isn’t your grandma—”

“No, yeah, Grandma’s great. She helped as much as she could but I mean, without school or a social life, I just stayed on my laptop. I think that was a mistake,” Arisa clarified.

Aya still held Arisa’s hand loosely in hers, taking comfort without the burden of much embarrassment. What had previously felt implicitly off-limits now felt almost natural, as though a restriction had been lifted. One seemingly self-imposed but reinforced by years of conditioning that, as they sat together and laid their hearts bare, fell away like the unravelled knot.

“There are a lot more people out there,” Aya murmured, all too understanding. Her tongue poked nervously at the inside of her cheek as though chewing her thoughts into more manageable pieces. Then she picked up her phone. Not quite manageable enough.

[ _Aya_ _♡ – Did you start looking for it?_ _The bad stuff?_ ]

Arisa averted her eyes but inclined her head.

“Kinda… It’s like, I know now that at school it was only a handful of people. Most people weren’t like that but I just didn’t see it. And it’s the same online. It’s a vocal minority, but there’s so much _more_ of it, so many people are saying it, so it feels like it’s everywhere… if you know where to look.”

Aya smiled sadly. “It was kind of the same with me, for a while. I managed to stop, but then I still look for the bad things people say about Pastel✽Palettes, and I don’t focus enough on the good.”

“Yeah, well, if people start bad-mouthing your singing, I’ll bully them back offline,” Arisa said bluntly. “Trust me. I’ve gotten in a lot of arguments, and I don’t lose them. Nobody’s getting away with bullying you.”

That smile turned shy and Aya tightened her hold. Their hands fit together so magically.

Having spent far less time online, Kasumi didn’t seem to understand. But she nodded along and voiced her sympathy, and lent her arms as comfort all the same.

“I wish we’d been friends back then,” she told Arisa. “I could have told you how wrong those people were.”

“Don’t think I haven’t dreamed of it,” Arisa mumbled. “If I could have met you back then, I would.”

“Did you make any friends online?” Aya asked.

Arisa made a shaky-hand gesture, wiggling Aya’s hand along with it. “None that lasted long. It wasn’t all bad, I found some supportive people, but y’know. You get wrapped up in the bad.”

She heard Kasumi sniffle and suddenly that hold grew tighter, wrapping Arisa up close until they could feel each other’s heartbeats. Arisa’s eyes reflected the sparkle in Kasumi’s own, and their hearts were pounding like percussion.

“I’m gonna work hard,” Kasumi insisted, more convicted than Arisa had ever heard her before, “to make you so happy you’ll never have to think about that bad stuff again. I’m—I love you. Do you know how much I love you?”

Arisa squeaked out a guess with a burning face. “A lot?”

“Yeah!!” Kasumi laughed, giving her another squeeze. She only realised how suffocating it was when Arisa frantically patted her on the back, and she let go, wrapping up an unsuspecting Aya instead. “Sorry!”

“It’s fine,” Arisa rubbed her chest, breathing deep. When she next spoke, her eyes were trained on Kasumi but flickered for a moment to Aya. “I… love you too.”

Whether Aya’s blush betrayed some understanding or was simply empathetic, Arisa didn’t know. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to know, the night had been eventful enough.

Nobody was ready to sleep just yet. One of them would set off a chain of yawns, they’d rub tired tears from the corners of their eyes, and Aya’s plush pink sleeping bag looked remarkably inviting, but their hearts still beat too wildly for them to dream of getting any rest.

They all jumped at the creak of the door, silence broken after minutes of sitting quietly together. Brighter light swam in and better illuminated the damp streaks on their faces, as Grandma shuffled in with another tray of teacups.

“I thought you all might like some green tea to help relax,” she smiled. “I’m sure you’ve had an exciting evening.”

The three of them flocked over like manic fans to a band, only now realising how dehydrated they were. Grandma’s smile grew softer as Arisa met her eyes, nodding her relief and mouthing ‘thank you’. Arisa didn’t know what Grandma had done with the ‘worries’ she’d taken out of her way, but she didn’t think she’d be seeing them again.

Kasumi paused after a sip from her cup. She seemed to be grabbed by the moonlight reflected in the tea, turning to the window and lighting up in wonder. “They’re out, the stars! They came out, too!”

Arisa’s chuckle was dry despite the gulp she’d just taken. “Good for them. Are you looking for more constellations?”

“T-that one looks like Orion,” Aya contributed helpfully. It was Taurus, but her effort was appreciated.

The tea was just beginning to have an effect when Kasumi jumped up from the bed. Blinking the drowsiness away, Arisa watched as she drained enough of her tea that it wouldn’t spill with her dramatics, and declared, “We should go stargazing outside, where it’s clearer!”

Arisa bit back the shut-down on the tip of her tongue. That eagerness was hard to say no to and Aya looked like she was in favour. The chill of the garden might do well to cool them down, and with the knot in her chest now a memory, she wouldn’t mind stepping outside and breathing deep of the fresh air.

“Only for a bit, then I need some sleep. We can’t all have your energy,” Arisa said.

Kasumi grinned appreciatively and scampered out the door, taking the starry dress with her. A chorus of cricks and cracks from Arisa’s weary knees accompanied her standing and stretching. She was in no real rush and Aya dawdled in wait, rocking back and forth on her heels and looking lighter for the night’s events.

“Aya-chan,” Grandma said as the two passed by in the hallway. The old woman was standing with her hands folded behind her back, smiling with an elder’s pride. She gave a short bow and said gently, “Welcome to the family.”

Both girls bloomed pink in the face but where Arisa regarded her grandma with an almost betrayed expression, Aya wore a wobbly, watery smile. “F-fank you!” she tripped over her tongue. Arisa guided her to the garden before she could embarrass herself further.

The ribbons around the bonsai glowed soft in the night like a star field down on earth. Kasumi sat cross-legged between them at constellation’s core, patting the ground beside her as the others approached.

“Why’d you bring my old dress?” Arisa asked, easing herself down on the stone floor. Aya sat on her other side.

Kasumi hummed confidently. “I know you get cold easy,” she said, holding it up before her. A sticker fell off and her confidence fell sheepish, but she carried on. “If I just go like this…”

She draped the dress over Arisa like a tiny duvet, barely covering half her body. The material wasn’t even thick and if anything, the stickers were somewhat cold, but Arisa felt a touch warmer regardless. “…Thanks. You’re awfully sweet,” she said flatly. The other two shared a giggle.

Arisa took her gaze to the stars. Long ago, the sky had been a polka-dotted mess of uncertain lights without rhyme nor reason; she couldn’t make sense of them. A bottomless sea only fit to remind her that miles upon miles separated her from what she’d wished for.

Now, with Kasumi beside her, pointing out whatever she thought she recognized, and Aya doing her best to follow along, Arisa saw constellations. She’d learned and grown, started leaving those lies behind, and the lights in the sky felt leagues more comprehensible. Without her eyes clouded by fear, Arisa felt herself drawn into the wonder of it all.

“Hey, Kasumi,” she mumbled. “Were you never really afraid?” Kasumi turned to her with a curious face. “I know you said you didn’t worry like us, but did you just not want us to feel bad?”

“Hmm…” Kasumi looked back to the sky. “I guess I was worried at first, when it was all new. But Aa-chan told me she’d fight anyone who gave me trouble, so I wasn’t so afraid after that.” She reached over and played with Arisa’s cold fingers. “I told you before that you and her are kinda similar. And she does like you a lot. I’m sure if you’d known each other, she would have protected you too.”

Her smile turned more wistful and Aya spoke up in her stead. “My sister was kind of like that too. She didn’t offer to fight anyone but whenever I got upset, she sat me down in front of the TV and we watched idol shows together.” Her own smile was fond but laced with sadness, too. “I’m sorry you had to do it alone, Arisa-chan,” she said quietly.

“Don’t worry about it. Grandma tried to help, strangers online tried to help, but I didn’t really let them help me. I think that’s just the kind of kid I was,” Arisa admitted. “Doesn’t it make you sad, though?” she asked Kasumi. “Knowing you missed out on so much before you came out?”

“Not much, really. It’s easier to just focus on how nice things are now, rather than what else I could have had. If things had been different, I might not be here now. With you.” The look on her face said that such a reality was unthinkable.

“I guess you’re not wrong…”

The tea helped warm her much more than the ‘blanket’ and sleep crept quietly in. Before long, Arisa felt her eyes grow heavy, closing the blinds on the starry sky above, and her head teetered over to her shoulder. Kasumi and Aya were still whispering the names of winter constellations by the time she’d tuned them out, and a few moments later, they found her out like a light.

Arisa was dimly aware, even as she slept, of Kasumi’s arms scooping her up for bed. Aya’s smaller hands were felt too, threading subconsciously through her hair. As she was carried gently up the stairs and back to her room, Arisa dreamed of an endless blanket, miles and miles above. Weightless and unburdened, she drifted through space, wondering if she might wake on the shore of a distant star. She was no longer alone, and the dreams she’d been denied felt suddenly close enough to grasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dress covered in star stickers was the original idea that the rest of the story formed around. Writing this chapter was kind of nerve-racking since I was really concerned about getting the coming out scene right, particularly the reveal of the dress and Aya's small outburst. Feedback is really appreciated on this chapter!
> 
> Chapter 8 will be an epilogue, in which Arisa finds something she'd lost.


	8. Dreams We've Lost and Found

If questioned on the nature of their rumoured relationship, Arisa, Kasumi and Aya would each react differently.

Rosy-cheeked and averting her eyes, Arisa would carefully explain that while she was dating her vocalist, she and Aya were just good friends. She’d been spending time with Aya in an effort to be more social, she’d say, knowing that Poppin’Party’s more zealous fans, those who already knew about Arisa’s difficulty with letting others in, would lap that story up.

Kasumi had been advised to keep her lips sealed unless Arisa was around to help. Left to her own devices, she’d speak the good, honest truth and land the three of them in hot water.

_Tabloid papers fly from the shelves! The girls of Pastel✽Palettes, accosted in the streets! Endless blinding cameras flash in the face of their fluffy pink leader!_

Aya may have been exaggerating her fame.

Instead, Kasumi would stiffly and unconvincingly parrot the same lines as Arisa, or Arisa would say them for her. She had a poppin' partner and a pastel friend, no more, no less.

Aya would make a mess of herself. Once her incriminating eyebrows had shot skyward, she'd stutter until she inevitably bit her tongue, giving her an excuse to stop talking. An idol shouldn’t make a habit of lying to their fans, so she would instead say nothing at all.

Their ‘official’ status had been decided by Chisato, who had more experience in keeping the public unaware. One weekend at dusk, she had invited the three of them back to the Gloaming Café for a primer on how to handle these rumours, and thankfully footed the bill.

“I’m not terribly worried,” she’d told them over tea. “I can’t imagine that you’d want to draw attention to these things anyway, Arisa-chan.” Chisato pointedly didn’t acknowledge Kasumi but her message was quite clear. Kasumi was under Arisa’s jurisdiction so if she fouled things up, it’d be on both their heads. “Still, ground rules are important. As long as you keep things platonic in public, the press shouldn’t get much out of you. Aya-chan,” she said sharply. “I’m sure I can trust you not to let something slip?”

Aya nodded stiffly with a placating smile. Her hand, joined with Arisa’s underneath the table, was slightly sweaty, but Arisa said nothing of it.

 _Unofficially_ , the state of their relationship was far more undecided. For all intents and purposes, they were dating. Arisa and Kasumi hardly treated Aya any differently than they treated each other, though Arisa’s affection was still a touch more tentative. The night beneath the stars had done away with their trepidation and Arisa often found herself caught off-guard by how easy it suddenly felt, to confide in the others and be openly herself with them.

However, none of them had yet taken that concrete step. They danced around labelling their relationship and while the word ‘girlfriend’ might occasionally slip out, it was quickly followed by a blush and a hand over the mouth. Part of it was the knowledge that they couldn’t be open about their relationship, and making things official would only worsen that sting. Part of it was simply the embarrassment of it all.

For now, they just meandered in a lovey-dovey limbo. Arisa supposed she hadn't pressured Aya to talk, so she shouldn’t force herself to stammer out a confession, either. This lack of a clear label was far less uneasy than the build-up to coming out had been, anyway. Really, they knew they were dating at this point, nobody was fooling themselves. Knowing this, but skirting around admitting it out of red-faced embarrassment, felt almost playful in a way that added a sense of fun.

Their dates had grown more frequent now that the idols were less busy. Most of their time together was spent at Arisa’s house, and a second sleeping bag had been added to the bedroom floor. The Gloaming Café and others like it were _occasional_ treats but trips to Hazawa Coffee were more common. While thanking Sayo for the concert tickets, Kasumi had even managed to talk her into a double date, the five of them looking like a colourful swirl of neopolitan and mint-choc ice cream.

“I will admit, I would have expected to find myself relating more to you, than to Toyama-san or Maruyama-san,” Sayo had said while waiting for the others to arrive.

“Nobody was more surprised than I was, trust me,” Arisa said. “Except maybe Aya-chan, she was… it was eventful. I really pulled a Hazawa-san though, huh.”

Sayo’s lips quirked. “At least your sacrifice made things easier for Maruyama-san. You were worried about not doing enough for her, so there you are. A gift more useful than cookies.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Arisa sighed.

Outside of their dates, Kasumi had been spending even more time at Arisa’s house than usual, and Aya often accompanied her. They’d sometimes head over straight after school when Arisa had to stay for student council work, surprising her when she got home. One night, Arisa had felt like a guest in her own house, as she’d returned after staying late at school to find that the others had cooked her dinner.

Tae’s odd comment about proposal had rung in her head as she ate. Returning home from work – or school – to a meal cooked by her wives – or girlfriends, or _something_ – it felt as if they’d skipped being girlfriends and gone straight to marriage. But she’d take that thought to her grave.

That had been the only instance of Kasumi and Aya being sneaky. They’d done well, she had to admit, concealing the surprise despite one’s big mouth and the other’s clumsiness. But outside of that night, they’d been highly suspicious. Arisa had come home multiple times to find Kasumi sidling out of Grandma’s room or Aya hiding something behind her back. Though, while they were hardly subtle, she still didn’t know what exactly they were doing, only that they were up to something.

If they were anything like her, and if precedent had been set, the others might reveal their surprise at the next sleepover, Arisa thought. Only one had taken place so far, though Kasumi hoped that Aya might meet her family soon. Apparently Rokka had been visiting frequently of late, perfectly platonically, Asuka had insisted, but Kasumi didn’t buy it and was giving them some time to themselves.

Aya’s house was chosen for sleepover number two. Her own little sister was eager to meet her big sister’s new… _good friends_ , and after a briefing on how to keep the secret safe (Aya had looked eager to act with some semblance of authority), their plans had been set into motion. To be safe, Arisa and Kasumi would arrive separately, about fifteen minutes apart, each wearing a facemask and less recognizable attire. Arisa would tuck her pigtails into the hood of her borrowed jacket and Kasumi would do away with the tell-tale buns. Kasumi had also lent Arisa her colourful hairclips, though not just for the disguise. It almost felt like the stealthy trip to the charity shop all over again, except its cause left Arisa in higher spirits.

“Arisa-chan!” Aya greeted at the door. Arisa placed a finger over her masked mouth and Aya realised her volume, quietening down. “C-come in!”

Arisa hadn’t missed the tuft of pink hair in the window, and tried not to grin at knowing Aya had been on the lookout. She hadn’t yet matched Kasumi’s lack of subtlety, waiting at the gate and waving madly as Arisa approached, but she seemed well on her way.

“Thanks for having me. You’ve got quite the garden,” Arisa noted appreciatively. “Is it a hobby of yours?”

Indeed, the doorway was decorated with hanging lavender, the path lined with rhododendrons just beginning to bloom. With patches of peonies, the lawn awash with colour, like Pastel✽Palettes’ costumes had been spun into seeds and left to sprout up from the earth. Despite asking, Arisa reckoned she already knew the answer. Aya’s social media was a museum of sunny selfies and little else, and if she’d been cultivating such an eye-catching garden, surely she’d be sharing it online.

“Oh, thanks! But uh, that’s actually more my mum’s hobby than mine. My sister helps out with it too. I-I _would_ help out more, but I’m just super busy…” Aya explained.

Arisa freed her pigtails from the hood and took off her mask. “Well, they’ve done a good job,” she said, neatening her tousled hair. “Are they home?”

“My sister’s in her room! Do you want me to fetch her?”

“Um! Maybe when Kasumi arrives? I’d rather not have all the attention on me,” Arisa replied meekly.

Their third arrived just five minutes later, too eager to wait any longer. Without the hairclips and the buns, Kasumi almost looked formal, but the grin on her face betrayed her true nature. She skipped up to the door swinging a bag in each hand, one big, one small, and saved the others from their dawdling in the hallway.

“Early again,” Arisa greeted. She nodded to the lighter bag. “Just how much did you bring?”

“Just enough!” Kasumi said cheerfully, handing the smaller bag to Aya and the larger to Arisa, before wrapping them both in a hug. Arisa grunted, the bag had some heft to it. Thankfully Kasumi seemed not to have bothered with DVDs, at least nothing rectangular was jabbing into Arisa's stomach as she was squeezed, though the bag crinkled like a thousand wrappers. No doubt it was stuffed with an excess of snacks and little else, and—

“Hang on,” she pulled away in realisation. Kasumi hummed a question and watched her unzip the bag. “Did you bring your sleeping bag? It’s still in my room, right, do you have a spare?”

Kasumi froze and raised her eyebrows. “Ah… ahaha! Well!” She didn't seem terribly bothered. “Oops!”

“I could ask my sister if you can use hers, but I don’t know if you’d fit,” Aya offered nervously.

“What’s this about your sister?”

Down the stairs came a girl with lavender hair, about a head shorter than Aya. She carried a small bowl, empty save for a spoon and a puddle of ice cream, and eyed the three girls with interest.

“Oh there you are!” Aya said. “Um, Kasumi-chan forgot her sleeping bag, do you mind if she uses yours?”

“Which one’s Kasumi-san?”

Kasumi waved cheerily and the younger girl gave a little smile.

“Sure. She’ll be a bit too big for it though, but uh… Arisa-san?”

Arisa nodded shyly.

“Arisa-san might fit better if you wanna swap. Food for thought.”

Her suggestion had Arisa pink in the face at the thought of Kasumi snuggled up in her own sleeping bag. It seemed that had been the girl’s intention, her grin turning sly as she carried on down the stairs.

“Hmm,” she inspected the two girlfriends as she passed, watching Arisa fidget under the eye contact and Kasumi smile simply back. Her height and her outfit, a simple sweater and leggings, weren’t very intimidating on their own, but there was an intensity to her stare that seemed designed to put Arisa on edge. Soon the girl gave an approving nod. “Yeah you did well for yourself, Aya. Anyway! Call me if you need anything.” With that, she headed to the kitchen.

Arisa let out a relieved breath. “Thank god she approves,” she mumbled. Realising her hands were growing numb around the handle of the heavy bag, she passed it back to Kasumi and turned to Aya. “Um, is she… You _are_ the bigger sister, right?”

“I try to be,” Aya pouted.

Quickly they were ushered upstairs to the safety of Aya’s room. Her mother was at work, she told them as they walked, but would be home in time for dinner. The house was decorated more simply than the lush garden, with a few potted plants and plenty of framed pictures. You could see how Aya had slowly perfected her smile through a timeline of family photos. Arisa’s expression turned wistful at the photos of a younger girl with her pink hair cropped short. Aya showed no shame for her smaller self, kept comfortable by her family’s support.

“That room is my sister’s,” Aya pointed out, gesturing to an open door revealing a small room full of succulents. “And this one,” she continued nervously, “is mine.”

Arisa stepped forward into an old, fond dream.

The walls ran with stripes of pink and were dotted with more framed photographs. They painted a picture of Aya's blooming career, capturing countless memories and strange stories. Oddly-shaped cushions were strewn about the room, a big, cuddly teddy bear with kind button eyes sat guarding the foot of the bed, and colourful accessories were laid out on the desk, a rose gold necklace contrasted by felted macaron earrings. Everything from the calendar to the photo frames was decorated with flowers, and a single potted plant, well-cared-for despite Aya’s busyness, stood tall next to the plushies.

What stood out the most amid the room’s soft aesthetic was the sharpness of Arisa’s sight. The room should have been hazy, blurry, ill-remembered, she couldn’t recall a dream with such crystal clarity. But it was wonderfully real and she was its guest. It felt almost as though rather than helping her younger self escape through the mirror, she’d been pulled through, herself. Not into the past that she’d worked to leave behind, but into one of the fantasies she used to dream up.

Aya noticed her look of wonder and smiled, but said nothing. Kasumi, copycat that she was, told Aya that the room was very ‘her’, and Arisa dimly nodded her agreement. She followed after Kasumi in unpacking their things, hardly paying attention to what she was doing. Her focus was elsewhere, on the dreamscape around, she was moving mechanically again. Sleeping bag: check. Pyjamas: check. Nail polish: che— _wait!_ That pulled her out of her stupor. _‘Put it away!’_ she urged herself. _‘Don’t be so presumptuous!’_ Aya noticed before she could hide the bottles.

“Ooh, Arisa-chan!” she said. “Did you wanna paint each other’s nails later?”

Arisa froze in stowing them away. “Ah, i-if you want to. I uh, didn’t have a lot of colours to bring…”

“That’s fine! I’ve got a bunch more, you can choose whichever you like.”

“Oh an excuse to hold hands, don’t mind if I do,” Kasumi teased.

Before they could do anything else, Arisa and Kasumi had to change out of their ‘disguises’. Arisa pulled the hoodie off over her head to reveal the black blouse underneath, while Kasumi left for the bathroom to swap her jumper for a dress. As she brushed her bangs out of her eyes, Arisa noticed something else on the wall. “What’s that picture?” she asked.

Framed above the head of Aya’s bed was something pale pink and frilly, with a few heart-shaped buttons. It didn’t quite seem flat like a painting or a photograph.

“Oh, that! Um, actually… I did the same kind of thing as you, Arisa-chan,” Aya began to explain. “I kept my first dress too. When I grew out of it, me and my sister folded it into a square and put it in a picture frame. It’s as nostalgic as any old photos,” she giggled.

Arisa looked fondly at the dress. So their tastes had been similar, those few years ago. She would have been one for star-shaped buttons, herself, but the hearts were a cute touch. Surprisingly, from what Arisa could see, the framed dress had fewer frills than the one she’d stowed away. It was certainly still saccharine but lacked the gaudiness that Arisa had indulged. She had to wonder if Aya’s subtler approach had spared her from the same ridicule. Or perhaps, Aya’s resolve had simply been greater than hers, and she’d stood solid against that storm.

“It sure is nostalgic,” came the voice of Aya’s sister. The smaller girl had appeared in the doorway, Kasumi following closely behind. The buns were gratefully back. “Your very first dress, right?” she continued, allowing Kasumi to squeeze past.

Aya opened her mouth and seemed to hesitate for a second, then nodded. “Y-yeah! Remember when we made the frame?”

Kasumi glanced between them and then up at the dress, silently going ‘Ooh’.

“Mm-hmm.” Her sister raised an eyebrow. “Do you wanna tell them or should I?” she asked with a coy smile.

Aya said nothing but looked at her pleadingly.

“That’s her second dress,” the younger girl explained. “She got sauce on the first one and it wouldn’t come out. So we framed the second one instead.”

The girl winked and disappeared from the doorway.

Having missed half of the conversation, Kasumi looked bemused while Arisa was torn between sympathy and amusement. Aya deflated and flopped onto her bed. “That’s the sister you said was so supportive?” Arisa asked, trying not to laugh.

“She _is_ , but she’s also… my sister.” Aya sighed and lay there for a moment, before picking herself up to go and close the door. “It’s just because you guys are here, she doesn’t tease me this much normally,” she said grumpily.

Arisa chuckled. “I don’t mind it much, personally.”

With the door locked and some snacks tossed Aya’s way to cheer her up, the three of them uncapped the nail polish. Arisa had read that painting each other’s nails was something done later in the day, but it seemed Aya had overestimated her eagerness and suggested they do it right away. Arisa wasn’t about to correct her, happy to hold her hand and apply a coating of rose gold. Her brush strokes were steady despite her inexperience, those years of trimming bonsai lending their aid, and Aya waggled her fingers excitedly when they were done.

Arisa and Aya each painted one of Kasumi’s hands, and she clearly enjoyed the extra attention. When they were done, she took their hands in hers and raised them one after the other to her lips. Aya squeaked and glanced over to check the door was still shut, while Arisa’s small smile turned wobbly as her heart beat ten to the dozen. Kasumi just giggled and let them go before the paint could spill onto their hands.

Though Aya was too preoccupied to notice, Kasumi didn’t miss how Arisa’s eyes grew misty as her nails were painted lilac, accented in gold. Kasumi gave her a look that said she wouldn’t tell, coupled with an understanding smile. The stars so close in her bright eyes were proof positive that Arisa was regaining some of those stolen dreams, living a reality she had thought was long lost.

“Thanks for doing this,” Arisa mumbled without thinking.

Aya glanced up. “Painting your nails? It’s no problem, it’s fun!” Her smile was eager but sobered into something gentler at the furrow of Arisa’s brow.

Arisa looked down at her fingers. She wiggled the one painted gold. “Y-yeah, and for just, I don’t know. Letting me have this,” she said quietly. “It’s just nice that I can still do some of this stuff, I guess.”

“I get you.” Aya returned to painting, brushing Arisa’s hand with her thumb. “It’s never too late, you know. You don’t have to give up just because you missed out before. You’ve still got plenty of time.”

Something wet hit Arisa’s nail and the paint began to run. Her hand wasn’t steady enough to layer in gold even as she willed it to still. Without a word, Kasumi handed Aya the nail polish remover and laid a hand on Arisa’s shoulder. They removed the paint and tried again, but Aya’s own hand was riddled with empathy. They removed the paint and tried again, and again, and with every mistake, Aya would glance up with an unneeded apology in her eyes, and a silent question, ‘Would you let me try again, and again, and again, and again?’ Until finally, when the nail polish remover had made Arisa's skin start to tingle, and their joined hands felt as though they belonged to a single person, her nail shone brightest gold.

* * *

The rest of the day passed in a blur of movies, snacks, and a dinner with the parents. Aya’s family were as supportive as expected and rivalled Grandma’s cooking. They assured Kasumi and Arisa that they would always be welcome in their home, and Arisa pretended that the lump in her throat was simply a bite of steak swallowed too quickly.

Night fell fast and they donned their pyjamas, then rolled out the sleeping bags. Yet while Arisa was growing tired, the others looked wide awake. Kasumi and Aya kept eyeing the small bag left by the door, and were far from subtle in their glances sent each other’s way. Eventually, Arisa spoke up.

“Are you two planning something?”

The pair of them froze and shot each other one last glance.

“Watching you dance around it is getting embarrassing,” Arisa confessed.

Aya smiled sheepishly. “W-well, um, we both had an idea, and…” The nervousness faded as she turned to Kasumi. “Are you ready to do it now?”

Kasumi hummed, rocking her head from side to side, then nodded. “We can’t really leave it any later, it’s nearly bedtime.”

“Oh you’re being sensible, that’s ominous,” Arisa muttered.

With a performative frown, Kasumi put her hands on her hips. “Oh? Do you not _want_ your present?”

Arisa blinked. “Pardon?”

“Yep, yep! You’re gonna love it, trust me.”

The mattress squeaked as Arisa shyly shifted her weight. “You two bought me something?” she asked. “You didn’t have to do that…”

“Oh, n-no, it’s just something we made,” Aya explained. “It might not be perfect, but we thought it might be nice?”

Kasumi was already tiptoeing around the sleeping bags and over to the door. She picked up the bag, turned away for a moment to check its contents, then came forward. Aya stepped over to her side.

They both wore excited smiles, one more nervous than the other. The bag in Kasumi’s hands had been sealed shut at the top and Arisa was glad she hadn’t been tempted to peek, else she might have ruined the surprise. At Aya’s gesture, she stood up from the bed and took a few steps forward.

“Okay now, um, close your eyes for a sec,” Aya instructed. “Please?”

Arisa raised an eyebrow but closed her eyes. For a few seconds there was silence, until the others knew she was keeping her word, and then she heard muted footfalls. Soon she thought she could smell the garden’s lavender – Aya’s perfume, she realised, mingling with her own hint of vanilla. It almost distracted her enough not to jump as she felt a pair of hands on her waist, but jump she did, with an undignified squeak.

“K-keep them closed! I’m just turning you around!” Aya stammered. She was behind her now, steering Arisa over to her left. Kasumi quietly giggled in the background.

“Okay… Just there,” Aya said slowly. “Can you put your arms at your sides?”

Arisa complied. Her fingers worried the hem of her pyjama top.

“It’s nothing to worry about! Sorry if we’re making it sound scary,” Aya assured her.

Kasumi’s voice was growing closer too. “Yep, you’re gonna love it, really. I know you will.”

Her confidence hardly put Arisa’s mind at ease. She believed her wholeheartedly, but she’d not brought any gifts herself. Not even her nail polish had been used in the end – Aya’s collection was far better, she knew so much more about these things. How many debts of gratitude was Arisa swimming in now? She would have to make it up to them, she’d need to foot the bill for their next day out, they were doing so much for her and she couldn’t call herself special, why would they go to such lengths for her—

Kasumi’s arms rested over Arisa’s shoulders and her frigid thoughts scattered into hiding. It wasn’t quite a cuddle but it would do; how silly that such slight contact brought her such calm. Aya had let Kasumi try some of her perfume that afternoon, so she smelled like fresh flowers, too. Arisa could almost feel her vibrating in excitement, like a purring cat sat atop her chest to calm her racing heart. What on earth she was doing, Arisa didn’t know, unless the gift was just a hug and the bag was just a ruse. She’d accept that happily, more happily than she ever would have thought. But something brushed lightly against her chin and she knew from experience she'd never admit to, that not even Aya’s lips were so feather-soft.

“I’m so excited,” Kasumi said, unusually quiet. The shackles of reservation Arisa had begun to cast off seemed to have found new purchase around Kasumi, if only for a moment, as she vibrated with restrained anticipation as though holding in her fireworks. “Are you excited?” she whisper-shouted in Arisa’s ear.

“And nervous. You’re giving it some bombast here,” Arisa rolled her closed eyes.

“Just trust me! Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

Not a moment’s hesitation.

“Good! You can open your eyes.”

She was met by the mirror and fell backwards in time.

There were things Arisa couldn’t think to notice. The dawning shock on her own face, Kasumi’s buns sticking out from behind her like she’d just grown them herself, Aya stood beside her, fingers inching closer to her own, ready to give comfort at a split-second’s notice. Arisa didn’t notice any of it. She only drank in the starry sky.

From her neck to her knees hung a royal purple dress, held by its collar between Kasumi’s fingers and thumbs. It was adorned with golden stars sewn into the fabric, not simply stuck there by her smaller self. Its night sky had just settled in and the stars hadn’t all come out, but they were there, rich and bold in the lamplight. Some big, some small, arranged unlike the mess of stickers she’d known, instead in tidy columns reminiscent of the band’s old suspenders. More stars ran down the chest, buttoning her up, and her eyes followed their trail down the mirror, ending at the pleated hem lined in amber.

It was a melting pot of her past and present. Spools of memories recalling old euphoria that hadn’t yet been soured, threaded with more sensible, practical touches to reflect who she’d grown to be. Its frills brought back flashes of remembered joy, while the neatness of the golden stars and the exercised restraint reminded her that years had still gone by. Her mind struggled to decide which reality she stood in. With the colours, ribbons and stars, she must have travelled back into the past; but this room, its pink walls, the other girls around her, she was still stood firmly in the present.

Truthfully, Arisa had been climbing back up to her dreams ever since that day, two springs ago. Joining the band had allowed her to wear things her younger self could only dream of, and flanked by four others in matching attire, she didn’t have to worry so much about standing out. But those costumes were made to perform, not to simply exist in her own stubborn skin. This dress, with its strings of stars recalling the band’s beginnings and colours of the nostalgic night, it was skilfully made and amazed the eye, but she loved it more for what it represented. In every button and seam were echoes of the past. Both the more recent past, her return to the keyboard and her first big step forward, and something more distant, that evening in her room after getting home from school. Before the ridicule and the stasis, just the dress and the mirror, and the thrill of seeing herself painted in her truest colours. Something she hadn’t felt in four long years.

Arisa didn’t know she was crying until Kasumi moved a little closer, breath warm on her neck, to hold the dress further from her body and keep it dry of her tears.

“Do you like it?” Aya asked nervously.

Something like a whine slipped from Arisa’s throat. She didn’t know what else to say.

Aya’s hand snuck again into hers. Kasumi, hands full, rested her chin on Arisa’s shoulder.

“We thought you should get a second chance,” Kasumi explained. “It sounded like you really loved that old dress, plus we knew you’d look cute in it. Grandma let us use her sewing machine while you were out of the house.”

“Sorry to spring it on you,” Aya said meekly. “Maybe we should’ve asked first… But, we just—you should get to have this. Like I said, you’re not too big or too old to be yourself. I really want you to know that, Arisa-chan.”

“I l-love you.”

Kasumi giggled in her ear. “We love you, too,” she said. Aya made a small sound like she was going to qualify those words, but they were only in her room, away from prying eyes. She let the sentiment stand proud.

“Do you wanna try it on?” Kasumi asked.

“Please…”

Aya took the dress out of Kasumi’s hands so she could wrap her arms around Arisa. She smelled of citrus shampoo and peony perfume. Her nose nuzzled into Arisa’s neck.

“I can’t… until you’re…” Arisa mumbled. She still held reflexively onto Kasumi’s arms.

“I know, I know.” Kasumi finally let go. “Call us if you need help buttoning up!”

Arisa sniffled. “I will.”

She accepted the dress tentatively as Aya held it out, finding it soft as marshmallow. Until she heard the door click shut behind her, Arisa simply stared at the thing, with its perfect stitching from hours of effort behind her back. How had she not realised, these past few weeks? Maybe she’d grown so used to worrying over her own secrets that she didn’t pay much care to those of others. She had known that something was going on but never would have attributed the pair’s behaviour to this.

Arisa didn’t want to make them wait. Though it dusted her pink to undress in this room, she slipped out of her pyjamas and pulled the dress over her head. Its material gave her goose-bumps as it touched her skin; it was snug but not tight, gave her unburdened chest plenty of room to breathe. She squeezed her eyes shut on some childish impulse until the whole thing was over her head, even fastened the buttons blindly. The neckline’s trim lay softly on her collar and the frilly sleeves tickled her wrists. Finally, when the shivers had all but subsided, she stared into the mirror and reclaimed her stolen self.

Time was still looping over. Kasumi and Aya were waiting outside the door,

_Grandma was waiting outside the door,_

The empty bag sat on the bedroom floor,

_The gift wrap littered her bedroom floor,_

The gold lace swayed as she pivoted on the spot,

_The lilac frills waved as she pivoted on the spot,_

And the door creaked back open at the sound of her laughter.

Kasumi and Aya peeked curiously in but Arisa cast embarrassment aside. She laughed and she twirled like it was her first dress again, drowning out what worries remained, watching its comet’s tail of golden lace trail weightlessly behind. Around and around like an orbiting moon, her laughter breaking through the quiet night, around and around and around once more, until her reflection swirled with shooting stars.

And her laughter warbled with water so she eventually quietened down, wiping messily at her eyes and looking for something to dry her hands on. Not the new dress, never the new dress, she’d keep it spotless (she’d learn from Aya’s mistake). As if called, the other girls stepped back into the room, Aya coming prepared with a box of tissues.

“Thanks,” Arisa laughed shakily again. Kasumi was already reaching over to wipe her tears away and she didn’t stop her, just mopping up the trails left on her cheeks without the embarrassment she might have once shown. “It’s… It’s so perfect.”

“I’m s-so glad you l-like it,” Aya stammered out, taking a fistful of tissues for herself. She blew her nose noisily then waddled over for a hug, fresh tears falling as soon as the first bout was gone. “And I’m so glad we made it s-so soft…” she said, clinging to Arisa like a koala.

Kasumi held herself together much better than the others, but still rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “You look even better than I expected!” she said, blinking fast. “Look how cute you are, look-look-look!” She held Arisa’s shoulders and spun her back around to the mirror, Aya going along with her, then excitedly bobbed from side to side, peeking out from Arisa’s left and right. “Look how precious! It’s like a costume but just for you!”

“And thankfully less eye-catching than most of our costumes,” Arisa noted. “You struck a good balance there.”

“We wanted to make sure it’s s-something you can wear whenever,” Aya said. “So we held back on some of the… fancier details.”

“It’s perfect,” Arisa repeated. “It’s… Thank you. Both of you.”

Back in the mirror, something was strange, and her gaze lingered until she realised what she was feeling. It could not last forever, she knew, and in the morning she would likely find something in her reflection to frown at, but here and now, Arisa felt beyond a shadow of a doubt that her body looked perfectly fine.

* * *

She saw it from the corner of her eye, how Aya brought her hands up to cover her mouth as a tremendous yawn tore through her. The poor thing had hardly finished drying her eyes when sleepy tears dampened them again, and Kasumi too was slapping her own face to keep herself awake. Arisa felt herself reflecting their exhaustion. All her whirling and twirling like a spinning top caught up to her in a flash, and the three of them agreed silently that it was time for rest. And like their unspoken acknowledgment that they were indeed dating, they each knew without words that the sleeping bags would lay empty tonight.

Kasumi guided Arisa by the hand to the middle of Aya’s bed. Boxed in by her girlfriends, undoubtedly her _girlfriends_ , Arisa couldn’t go and change back into her pyjamas. She didn’t really want to. The dress had been folded in the bag so it was already creased, and she’d iron it when she got home, she told herself. She could let herself have this much.

And she could let herself fall asleep in her girlfriend’s bed. Come morning, the unnoticeable beginnings of an Arisa-shaped indent would be etched into the mattress, to be further defined by repeated sleepovers, like layers of clumsy paint on a nail. And she could let herself accept her stellar gift. Perhaps she might spritz it with lavender and peony perfume, if Aya didn’t mind, so it would remind her of her partners, always.

Where was the limit? What couldn’t she have? There had to be a line between stifled dreams and endless possibilities, just as there was between closed-off solitude and wearing every facet of her heart on her sleeve.

“Hey, you two,” she whispered. Aya’s hair tickled her nose as she turned over. “I do… really appreciate this, you know, but… why did you go so far for me?”

Kasumi closed her eyes and said tenderly, “Because we love y—”

“Yeah I know,” Arisa interrupted. “But still. It’s just, I know I was sad about this stuff back then, and maybe I hadn’t completely moved on, but you didn’t have to work so hard for me. Things are… pretty good already.”

“Well, we wanted to,” Aya said quietly. “Whether you needed it or not, we wanted to do something for you. You didn’t make us, or anything.”

“And you can’t say it wasn’t worth it when you looked so happy,” Kasumi said. Before Arisa could reply, she continued, “You already tried brushing your feelings aside back then, anyway. You’re not about to do that again.”

Arisa sighed and shuffled further under the duvet. “Yeah, you’re right…”

She felt Aya place a hand on her arm, tracing the sides of a golden star with her finger. “Also… you said you stopped taking piano classes in middle school, right?”

“Yeah?”

“And you got that dress in middle school, too.”

“…Yes, why?”

Aya gave her arm a squeeze. “Where’d you get all those stickers for your dress, then?” she asked. The slow understanding widened Arisa’s eyes, and Aya’s smile along with it. “You must have gone out and bought more, right? That’s how much you loved it. So don’t downplay your feelings, or we’ll just see right through you.”

“Okay,” Arisa whispered meekly. She disappeared further down until only her bangs stuck out from the covers. A few moments later, her eyes peeked out, and she said, “If there’s anything I can do for you too, just ask.”

“A goodnight kiss would be nice,” Kasumi said immediately. Arisa huffed, unsurprised, and shuffled close for a kiss on the cheek, then a daring peck on the lips. She felt Kasumi smile into it, brief as it was.

“Sleep well, dummy,” Arisa said. Kasumi murmured something about softness while shimmying under the duvet until she was wrapped like a gift.

“Aya-chan?”

“Y-yes please,” Aya answered the unspoken question. The speed with which she moved closer betrayed the eagerness she was trying to hide.

Arisa tasted a hint of strawberry. Aya had forgotten to remove her lip gloss before bed, and by morning her pillow would be stained with it. Those two had fashioned her the most beautiful dress, perhaps Arisa could sew a replacement pillowcase, she thought. The idea had her smiling into the kiss as well, her own silliness calming her pounding heart.

They shuffled back, pink cheeks unnoticed in the dark. “Sweet dreams, Arisa-chan,” Aya mumbled happily.

“Sleep well, Aya-chan.”

As Arisa’s eyelids fluttered almost shut, the sliver of Aya’s sleeping face lulling her gently away, she couldn’t shake the sudden, sleep-deprived feeling that a promise had been fulfilled that night. One perhaps made to her younger self? That had to be it, she decided.

The knowledge that she could have gotten to this point years ago if not for those whispered lies would haunt her for some time to come, she knew. Arisa staved off sleep for a few more minutes, knowing that her inevitable dreams of a warmer past would taste bittersweet. But Kasumi’s arm was draped around her waist and she tasted strawberries on her lip, smelled flowers in the air, so that needless regret wouldn’t distract her for long. The memory of this night would be a salve over old wounds, like a layer of stickers on a worrisome dress. Her accented nails glowed gold in the dark, and her celestial gift was the softest blanket.

Arisa reached the realisation, keen and sharp through her tired daze, that her dreams were never truly stolen, but simply lost and waiting to be found.

* * *

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 **.** **✦** ***** **✧** **. ·**

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**☆** **· . * .** *** .**

**✹** **˚ *** **✦**

***** **✧** **.**

 **✫** **.** **☆ ✷** **⋆**

***** **.** **✧** ***** **✦**

  * ***** **✷** **✦** **✫**



**.** **✦** **· · . ***

 **.** ***** **✦** **✷**

 ***** **⋆** **. ***

**✧** **·** *****

**☆** **· . * .** ******* .**

**⋆** **✦** **☆**

 **✧** **⋆** **. * ***

 ***** **☆ ⋆** **·** **✷**

**⋆** ***** **⋆** **✦** **·**

**☆** ***** **⋆**

_Arisa heard her name being called from the porch. She could smell her grandma’s strawberry pie even from the garden, and with how she’d picked at her dinner, the scent had her starving. But she took her time getting up, on unsteady knees, gripping her phone with its dampened screen and glancing down at it, again and again._

_It had buzzed with a notification that pulled her away from the endless space, and after those weeks of being taught trepidation, she had unlocked it expecting the worst. Now, after staring at the screen… things were different. Just slightly, but different. She didn’t know what to think. As she’d read the message twice-over, disbelieving at first, her tears had stilled on her face. Finally, the blurry words sunk in, and those tears kept falling in their dozens. Arisa could only dab at her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater. She was a burst dam covered in bandages._

_Things were not going to be okay, she told herself. One message could not return stolen years, nor could it make her forget what she’d been told. And yet, where before she had begun to feel rooted to the ground, ornamental as the bonsai around her, she suddenly felt the soreness of her knees and found the strength to stand. And her face, her wretched, blotchy face, reflected in the screen… was it really so hard to look at? She… couldn’t say, in the moment. She wasn’t sure whether she truly minded it._

_In the morning she would wake and skip school again. Grandma would ask and she’d shake her head, open up her laptop and set her homework on the desk, vowing to never go back. But in this warm night, staring at her damp, ordinary face, the thorny vines that encircled her heart felt just a little less sharp. Arisa wandered back to the warmth of the house, of the pie, of Grandma’s arms in that woolly blue jumper, and she stared down at the phone screen as though if she tore her gaze away, those words might vanish into nothing. And though it was small, for the first time in weeks, Arisa gave her reflection a smile._

_Beneath a blurry photo clearly taken in excitement, showing bright pink eyes, paler pink hair, and a smile that needed plenty of practice, there was a comment on the message board that stood out from the rest._

[ _I know you must be hurting, but what they’re saying isn’t true! Someday, we’re both going to become who we’re meant to be, no matter what anyone else says._

 _I promise, even if it takes a million years, we’re going to make it there, together!_ ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ★ Thank you for reading! ★
> 
> Celestial Body has ended up being really important to me and I hope it was as enjoyable to read as it was for me to write. What began as the image of a dress layered in star stickers grew to become the largest story I've written.
> 
> This chapter featured some amazing art from @butchtrex on tumblr, who perfectly captured the timeless euphoria I aimed to convey.
> 
> Already I know that I'd like to write a short (theoretically) prequel story, focusing on Arisa and Kasumi's relationship. It'd probably be called Cuddle Conductor. Hopefully I can write that soon!
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated, and the comments I've received so far have been really nice! My main aim with Celestial Body was to express some of the less frequently acknowledged feelings that can come with being a trans girl, and for them to resonate with others. I'm so glad that's been the case.
> 
> Also! I'm @caraluques on twitter and tumblr. I hope you enjoyed the story!


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